31 Days of Xanderween
by Night Hunter MGS
Summary: YAHF fic dedicated to the month of October, with Xander Harris in a different costume every story. NOW FINISHED!
1. Chapter 1

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's Notes: So I have a certain fondness for Xander Harris and YAHF fics, so sue me it's an interesting "what if" scenario. Besides, I've been planning this series of ficlets for over a year now. The intention is to produce thirty-one chapters, one for each day of October and each one featuring Xander in a different costume. Hopefully, most of the costumes I use will be fairly original and rarely used in YAHF fanfiction if ever. So sit back, grab some candy, and enjoy the insanity.

General Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the tv series Buffy the Vampire Slayer; they are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. I also do not own any other characters from anime, videogames, television, movies, comics, or literature that I might use. This work is meant merely for enjoyment, and no profit is being made off of it. 'Ya hear that, you blasted lawyers? I'm in the clear now, so buzz off!

Warnings: violence and mild language, mention of sexual situations

Story 1- Father Alexander

Alexander Harris, more commonly known as Xander, had to bite back a particularly nasty swear word as he watched the second grader running away laughing with the last toy gun in the costume shop's bargain bin. Great, just great. First their beloved little fascist troll of a principal, Snyder, drafts him into babysitting a bunch of grade school brats hopped up on sugar for Halloween instead of spending the night with Buffy and Willow watching bad horror movies. After that, the Buff manages to totally emasculate him when she steps in and scares off Larry, the local football star and stereotypical meathead bully, letting everyone in the school see that apparently Xander Harris can't fight his own battles like a man and needs a petite blonde haired girl to save him. Then there was Buffy and Willow, giggling over a costume dress that he just knew she wanted to get in order to impress and woo the brooding vampire with a soul Angel, or as he preferred to call him Deadboy. Finally, the last piece he needed to add to the fatigues he had at home in order to complete his costume was now in the grubby little hands of some kid. No toy gun meant no costume, and no costume meant that Snyder would have the excuse that he needed to give Xander detention for the remainder of his high school career. The only other option was to buy a new, full costume, which would cost much more than he had planned on spending, cutting into the road trip fund that he'd been saving for years for. Yep, it was official, life sucked.

With a sigh, he turned around, ready to trudge out the door in defeat, when he saw it. Pale gray pants and vest covered by a matching but slightly darker colored trench coat, with royal purple lining edging the open flaps of the coat. There was a stiff collar, the mark of a priest. A pair of wire rim glasses hung from a piece of string tied off to the hanger that the costume was placed upon, right alongside a pair of silky white gloves with writing on the back. However, what drew him in was the cross, large and gleaming silver, glinting in the light in what almost seemed a defiance of the approaching night. Overall, it was one cool priest outfit.

Although, as Xander looked at the costume props next to the suit, he couldn't help but wonder just what sort of priest used a whole slew of bayonet-like short swords?

Walking up to the costume, Xander curiously grabbed at a tag pinned to the costume's sleeve. Huh, forty bucks wasn't too bad for a costume of this caliber, but it was still a little too steep for his price range. Glancing over the other parts of the tag, he saw a picture of a tall, blonde haired man with green eyes, who seemed to be in his late thirties or early forties. He had a gentle smile spread across his stubbled face, the cross raised to his lips in a benediction. But the scar on his chin and something that gleamed in his eyes told the boy that this wasn't just a simple, peaceful man of the cloth. Whatever that something that was in the character's eyes was, it drew Xander in like a moth to flame. Then he saw the character's name on the tag right under the picture, and Xander's eyes went wide as his hand grabbed for his wallet. Screw the road trip! He wanted this costume!

--- --- --- ---

Joyce Summers opened the door to see a tall man dressed in gray with a messy blonde crew cut and intense green eyes. Noticing the cross and collar, she bowed her head in respect. She might not be Catholic or all that religious, but she was still aware that a priest deserved some respect. "Good evening, father. What brings you here?"

Needless to say she was surprised when the priest leaned back and started laughing loudly. "Oh man, Mrs. S! Thanks for the compliment; I didn't know that I'd done that good of a job on my costume!"

It was only then that Joyce recognized the young man standing on her doorstep. "Xander! Is that really you? You look so different in that costume! Who are you supposed to be?"

Xander smiled, raised the cross hung around his neck to his lips, then spoke in a thick Scottish accent. "I am the will of God, messenger of the divine punishment of Heaven."

There was a flash of intense fanaticism in his eyes, and for a moment Joyce was breathless at the raw intensity and overwhelming dedication Xander was projecting. Then it was gone, and he gave one of his goofy smiles that was so typically Xander that she thought what had just happened was all but a dream. Still smiling, the young man bowed theatrically to the woman who'd become more of a mother to him than his own. "Paladin Alexander Anderson, of the Vatican's Section XIII Iscariot Organization."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

With a jerk, Father Anderson came to consciousness. How? How was he still alive? The last thing he remembered was ramming Helena's Nail, one of the nails used to pin the Lord Jesus Christ to the cross and probably the church's most sacred artifact, into his own heart in order to gain the power needed to defeat the vampire Alucard amidst the burning ruins of London. He could remember Alucard practically begging him not to use the nail on himself, warning him that it would turn him into a monster of God. He could still feel Alucard's fingers punching through his ribcage, pulling out the nail and with it his heart. Anderson knew he was dead and that he should be in glory at this very moment, but he also knew that this sure as hell wasn't the heavenly realm.

Around him was what appeared to be a small town, probably American from the look of the architecture. And raging unchecked through the streets were hordes of what appeared to be demons and other monsters. The air itself practically stank of demonic energy to his trained senses, as if the place rested upon hell itself. Why was he here in this hellhole instead of resting in glory? Was it God's will? Did his heavenly Lord still have a use for him in this dark and seemingly godless place? If it was such, then let His will be done. He was the fiery sword of God's will, the messenger of the divine punishment of Heaven! He was Paladin Alexander Anderson, holy warrior and devoted servant of the one true God! Those who stood in his Lord's path would be turned to ash, and their bodies ground to dust!

With a loud and ringing "AMEN!" Anderson drew a pair of his blessed bayonets into his hands and began stalking towards the scenes of chaos before a young, timid voice drew his attention. "Xander?"

Turning, Anderson saw a red haired young woman in a scandalously scanty dress. Staring wide eyed at her, he shook his head slowly. "Nae, lass. I dinnae kno' this Xander yer speakin' of. I'm Father Anderson. Now why don' ye get som' clothes on?"

Willow's eyes went wide, her lip trembling. "Oh no, you changed into your costume as well."

At this, the priest was curious. "Changed? Costume? Wha' de ye mean lassie?" He could barely, even with the enhanced senses he enjoyed as a regenerator, keep up with the girl's babble. Nevertheless, when she was done, he got the gist that he was not himself, that he was in the body of a boy that had dressed like him for Halloween. That certainly explained how he could be here despite being dead. The knowledge that the demons he'd been about to destroy were children that had also been transformed filled him with dread and anger. Many thought him a mindless butcher, but the feared paladin had a soft spot for children as evidenced by the orphans that were under his care, back at his tiny little orphanage outside of Rome. For children, innocents, to be twisted into beings of darkness… This stank of the blackest of magics.

Growling, the priest strode off, trained senses searching for the shreds of the spell everyone was under, ignoring the girl as she shouted at him to help her find somebody named Buffy of all things. He couldn't bring himself to harm the children trapped underneath these costumes given flesh. Therefore, his only other option was to find the source of the spell and disrupt it. And when he found it, God have pity on the deranged soul that cast the spell because Anderson would have none.

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ethan wheezed weakly, blood dribbling down his chin as he hung from his shop's wall, arms stretched out to his sides and hands impaled by silver bayonets in a sad parody of the crucifixion. Ironic, that one of his own costumes had done this to him. Janus must be lapping up the chaos of this grand irony. Glaring into the chaos worshipper's eyes, the mad fires of a zealot burning within his own cold green orbs, Anderson reached out to twist the dagger stuck in the other man's side. "No', Ae'll only be askin' this wunce moor, ye dirty stinkin' 'eretic. 'Ow do Ae break the spell?"

Ethan couldn't take it anymore. This was a thousand times worse than anything Ripper would have conceived of doing to him. By this point, he just wanted the pain to end. "The statue", he gasped out in a faint, pained tone of voice. "Break the… bust of Janus… and the spell will end."

Anderson nodded once in acknowledgement, and before Ethan even saw the warrior priest move his head went flying to the other side of the room. Anderson stood in front of the decapitated corpse, studying the bloodied blade in his hand. He wondered how the boy, this Xander, would react knowing that someone had died by his hand. He'd gathered from the girl from earlier, Willow, that the boy knew of and fought against the demons and vampires. Knowing nothing but that helped make him fond of the boy. He wished that he could stay and help, to send more of the damned demons screaming down into hell. But it was the boy's fight now, not his; Xander was alive, he was dead, and now they had to both go back to where they belonged.

With a final smirk and one last cry of "Amen", Anderson flung his weapon into the nearby bust of a false god, causing it to shatter. Instantly Anderson's consciousness was ripped from his body, and Xander Harris fell to the ground. Picking himself up, his gloved hand caught a particularly sharp shard of the statue, piercing the flesh and drawing blood. Swearing, Xander tore off the glove and turned his hand to inspect the wound. To his surprise, the cut healed nearly instantly right before his eyes. Staring at his hand, he gazed at the other, which still clutched one of Anderson's bayonets, the weapon feeling perfectly natural in his hand and brimming with holy energies that he could feel pulsing within his own body. Looking at his bloodstained glove on the floor, he smirked at the inscription on the back, "speak with dead". Chuckling, Xander muttered to himself, his usual lazy drawl replaced by a thick Scottish brogue. "Well nae, in't that intrestin'….."

--- --- --- --- --- ---

Angelus was running. He was running for his unlife. Unleashing the Judge upon the world had seemed like such a good idea at the time. How was he supposed to know that Harris could regenerate the damage the demon inflicted upon him as quickly as it happened? He certainly hadn't thought that the boy who'd been so changed by that Halloween night just a few months ago would have been strong enough to tear the Judge's head off with his bare hands. After that, things had quickly gone down hill. Spike and Dru were both dust in the wind, hit with unerring accuracy by those damnable blessed bayonets that Xander seemed to have a never-ending supply of. As soon as the bayonets had started flying, Angelus had started running. He wasn't a fool; he knew the only reason that Harris hadn't dusted him the first night after Halloween was because the boy was holding the instincts he'd gained from that priest Anderson in check. But now that he wasn't Angel anymore, now that he didn't have a soul, Xander Harris had no more reason to hold back.

Rushing to a doorway, the vampire breathed in relief as he came within feet of safety. That relief turned to horror though as the hand that was stretching out for the doorknob was repulsed by an invisible field, which crackled and burned along his dead skin. A plummeting sensation of impending doom in his stomach, he looked up to see pages of Holy Scripture pinned to the doorway by small stilettos. Xander had obviously expected him to come this way and had raised a barrier that he couldn't get past. He was trapped, trapped with the priest-wannabe.

The ringing of metal caught his attention, and brought him around to see Xander Harris striding forward with a purpose, clanging two of his bayonets together and the large silver crucifix he always wore swinging with each step as he advanced. The boy's eyes were brown again, but the blond hair and the scar had remained as had Anderson's fearsome regeneration, fighting skills, and holy powers. In the few months since Halloween, "Killing Priest" Harris had firmly replaced Buffy Summers as the most feared hunter on the Hellmouth. That's why when Angelus had been released from the imprisonment placed on him by his soul, he had immediately gone about reassembling the Judge. He'd figured that only a demon that terrifyingly powerful would stand a chance against the holy powered, God driven killing machine that Xander had become. However, not even that had been enough, and now he was all alone with any vampire's worst nightmare, a paladin out for his death.

Backing up against the wall, Angelus tried one final effort to save his life. "You know, Buffy will never forgive you if you kill me."

His words may have once worked on the boy, but now Xander just scoffed as he approached the helpless vampire with a blade raised. "I'm th' servant o' th' one tru' God, messenger o' Heaven's divine judgment. Do ye reallae tink tha' Ae need the lassie's fergiveness, yeh damned hellspawn leech?"

In the blink of an eye, Xander's holy weapon shot forward in a blur of silver, the sounds of a loud "Amen" ringing off the walls, and then there was nothing but a pile of dust where the Scourge of Europe had once stood.

End of Story 1: Father Alexander

Character: Paladin Alexander Anderson, from the manga/anime Hellsing

Next story: Crying Xan-man

Endnotes: I know this isn't up to my usual standards, but I'm going to try to rush these fics so that I can get them out consistently during October. Once this drabble series is done, I'll resume work on my other fics. 'Til the next chapter, ja ne!


	2. Chapter 2

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's Notes: Wow, I got a lot more responses far more quickly than I thought I would. Thank you all for reading. Before I say anything else, let me clarify something I thought that I'd made clear in the first chapter. This is a series of quick drabbles, ideas, and one shots; in no way, shape, or form will it ever be considered an epic. This fic is dedicated to the month of October, and I'm trying to post one fic for every day of the month. In other words, I'm writing a fic and posting it daily. Usually it takes me at least two months to come up with a good chapter, or two to three weeks to write a decent one shot. Since this is new to me and I'm on such a tight schedule to get the chapters out, often having only an hour to write them, they will be short, not particularly well researched, and not up to my usual standards of writing. If you want to see what my usual writing standards are, please read my other fics. Now, I'd like to address some of my reviews.

Majin Gojira, I may be incorrect but the Halloween episode took place in season 2, which was set in the year 1997 correct? If I'm right, my first fic works out just fine since Hellsing was first published in 1997. As for Jurassic Park, I'll consider it but make no promises. If I do use JP, which character would you suggest? Grant? Malcolm? Anyway, let me know, I always appreciate feedback.

As for those reviewers who asked, no the character in this chapter is not Rembrant Brown. Just read and find out for yourselves. So now, everybody sit back and enjoy!

Disclaimer: See first chapter for main disclaimer; once again, I own nothing not even the clothes on my back.

Story 2: Crying Xan-Man

Xander couldn't help but pout. The bargain gun bin was terribly empty. No M-16s, AK-47s, Sig Sauers, M1 Garands, or any other toy rifle. There wasn't even a single automatic pistol! All there was in the very bottom of the container, rejected and left alone, was a simple revolver. That would have been all well and good if he'd intended to go as a cop or something, but this thing wouldn't go with his fatigues at all!

Sighing, Xander resigned himself to having detention for the rest of his life in high school since he didn't have a costume with which to meet Principal Synder's demands. Damn the little troll. If Xander ever saw one of the things that go bump in the night trying to turn the little man into a snack, the only reason that he'd intervene was because the thought of the nasty little man becoming an even nastier little vampire was too revolting to stomach.

Turning to leave, Xander spotted what would turn out to be his salvation. Hanging by itself on a bargain shelf was a slightly damaged but repairable Chinese top with a dragon design and a pair of pants and slippers with it. It was the dragon that got him to thinking. The revolver, the Chinese clothing, the thoughts of dragons… They were all reminding him of something. With a start, Xander suddenly remembered a movie that he and Jesse had watched on late night television a couple of years ago.

The movie was about an assassin enslaved by the Chinese mafia, the "108 Dragons". It had been full of blood, gore, gunfights, explosions, and gratuitous nudity and sex along with the violence. Needless to say, the two young teenage boys had lapped it up. They'd learned that the movies were adapted from a Japanese anime which of course had been adapted from a manga. It was only a matter of time before the two managed to get their hands on these items as well, and found them to be even more gloriously violent and erotic than the movie. But what really hooked Xander was the character of the assassin himself, a man who'd been a simple potter before his enforced servitude, a man who had a quiet sadness about him and a gentle smile. He'd forgotten all about that series, it being too painful to remember after Jesse's death.

Still, he had the two main parts right here and they were both going for cheap. He was sure that this place also sold body paints and that he could get somebody from the art class to paint his back with the character's infamous tattoos. Dressing as the character would, in a way, be like a memorial to Jesse's memory, of the good times that they'd had together before he'd been vamped.

Decision made, Xander grabbed the revolver and the Chinese clothes before going on the hunt for some body paints. It looked like he had a costume after all.

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Long Tai-Yang glanced around slowly, the keen eye of an artist that he'd developed in his life as Yo Hinomura taking in each and every detail of the surrounding area. He was in an American small town, far from his rooms at the headquarters of the 108 Dragons. He was in simple yet practical Chinese robes and pants, like those he wore when he was simply Crying Freeman, the 108 Dragons' mind controlled assassin, not the heir and future head of the organization. Tucked in his cloth belt was one of his trusty magnums, although he didn't seem to have the plastic explosives that he used to blow up the weapon after using it to kill, thus destroying evidence of his crimes. Most upsetting to him was that Hu Qing-Lan, or Emu as he referred to her when they were alone together was nowhere to be seen; his wife hadn't left his side ever since joining the 108 Dragons in order to be with him. Yet in spite of all this, he remained calm and serene, like the pools outside of the temple in which he'd been trained in the arts of assassination. There was nothing in the world that could disturb his unearthly calm after all that he'd been through in his life.

Not even the sight of a redheaded prostitute caused him more than a slight touch of curiosity. He wondered why she was calling him Xander. Had his codename been changed for whatever job he was on right now since the name of Crying Freeman was too well known in the underground? Being on a job was the only thing he could use to explain the memory loss of why he was here, since sometimes after entering the post-hypnotic state that turned him into a near perfect killer he would black out. Silencing the prostitute's babbling with a raised hand, he spoke with a gentle, melodious voice that nonetheless held the edge of command and total focus. "Enough. Who and where is our handler?"

Willow blinked in confusion. "Handler? You mean… Giles? He's at the school library…"

"Show me."

--- --- --- --- --- ---

Yo stood silently outside of Ethan's costume shop. The redhead, Willow, had explained that he wasn't really here in body, that he was inhabiting someone else's form due to a spell. Even after all that he'd seen, he had trouble believing in magic; at least that was until she'd passed her hand through his face. After a while, they'd met the man she called Giles, and after Willow explained where they got their costumes it became obvious that this Ethan had something to do with what was going on. It was equally obvious to Yo that the librarian knew this man as he'd seen the brief look on his face at the mention of Ethan's name. They'd all set out together to go find someone named Buffy, but along the way Yo had quietly snuck off into the night and proceeded to run with the speed and stamina of an Olympic cross country runner off towards Ethan's costume shop. Along the way, he'd encountered a blonde haired member of the creatures that Willow had identified as vampires, and with a single knife hand strike to the back of the creature's neck Yo hit it with such force and precision that the vampire's eyes burst out of their sockets; the vampire would be out of commission for the rest of the night at least. Now, it was time to pay this Ethan a visit.

Ethan turned to greet his old mate Ripper when he heard the shop door open, only to have the barrel of a handgun shoved into his right nostril as he came face to face with a handsome young man whose soulful eyes were hard and promised death. "The spell. How do I break it?" The boy's voice was strong and firm, quiet and calm, yet had a tone that told anyone who heard it that messing with him was the last thing they wanted to do. So like the coward he really was at heart, Ethan gave him what he wanted.

"The statue. Break the bust of Janus…"

The Englishman didn't get off any other words as Yo pulled the trigger, splattering his target's brains across the far wall. As always happened when he killed, heartfelt tears sprang from his eyes and flowed like a river down his otherwise emotionless face; this quirk caused by the hypnotic conditioning he'd been subjected to is what had earned him the name of Crying Freeman, the assassin that yearned for his freedom and shed tears for those he slew. Tears still running down his face, Yo walked over to the statue and shattered it with a single punch. Still crying, Xander moved away from the destroyed bust and Ethan's corpse, coming to stand in front of a series of mirrors. Without a word, he removed his clothing, revealing that what had once been simple body paint were now actual tattoos that covered his entire body in the image of a dragon.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander stood expressionlessly behind Giles as the man sobbed and cried out in grief. "He killed her, Xander. Angelus killed Jenny. I know that Buffy wants Angel back, but that doesn't stop the fact that he killed the woman I love. And at the same time, I know that I'm helpless against him. I don't know what to do."

A gentle hand softly clasped Giles' shoulder, and he turned to see the boy's calm yet deadly eyes. His voice was barely a whisper, but held an edge of steel that sent shivers down the older man's spine. "Say the words Giles. You're the only one that I dared entrust the command words to induce the post-hypnotic state with. Say the words, and it will be done."

Gulping, for the first time truly tempted to use the power that Xander had granted him immediately following Halloween, Giles shook his head. "Xander, I don't want to force you like that. I don't want to command and use you like a puppet. And what about Buffy? With Angelus dead and her lover gone for good, what if she tried to kill you?"

The young man's smile was as soft and gentle as his light touch, a serene expression with a hint of some indefinable sadness behind it. It was one of the most terribly beautiful things that Giles had ever seen, reminding him of how much his young charge had changed in the last few months. "If Buffy comes to kill me Giles, then I will simply die. Now say the words."

Defeated and knowing that the boy who had become like a son to him recently would not be swayed, Giles hung his head then repeated the words that Xander had taught him after Halloween. "Kill! Kill! Slice! Shoot! Stab! Strike!"

Instantly Xander straightened and his face became totally without emotion, standing silently as he awaited his instructions. With a sigh and a prayer for forgiveness, Giles gave them to him. "Freeman, you are to locate and kill the vampire Angelus and his followers. Leave no vampires undestroyed. Now go."

Without a sound, Xander slipped a wooden knife into his hand and left the library by leaping out of the nearby window with the grace of a gymnast. Angelus' death tonight was assured.

--- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith grumbled and shot occasional fearful glances behind her back as she stalked through the corridors of good ol' Sunnyhell High. She'd been Called when her predecessor, Kendra, had stumbled into a nest of Polagra demons. Though the Jamaican Slayer had given a good accounting for herself and taken down five of the eight demons there, when it was all said and done there was barely enough of the girl left to bury inside of a Ziploc sandwich bag. And now, it seemed like death was reaching out to claim her as well. She hadn't told Buffy or the so-called Scoobies about Kakistos, the vampire that had murdered her Watcher and then came after her. She'd run from him, and thought that she'd lost him. But last night, she'd caught a glimpse of Mr. Trick, Kakistos' right hand man. Her worst nightmare was here for her, and she just knew that if she didn't skip town quick then she'd be joining Kendra.

She was jolted from her frightened thoughts by a faint whirring sound coming from the art room as she passed. Curious since she knew that the school was all but empty at this time of day, the Slayer peeked into the class room and felt her jaw drop at what she saw. Squatting over a potter's wheel, nimble fingers giving shape to lifeless clay, was a modern day Adonis. He was tall, well muscled, had dark brown hair, a simply gorgeous face, and brown soulful eyes that could draw you in and hold you a willing captive forever and a day. In other words, Grade A+ prime beefcake. Faith licked her lips hungrily, just knowing that she was looking at her next conquest. Hell, he looked so damn sexy that if he was any good at all in the sack then she might let him come back for seconds!

It was then that the figure looked up and smiled, and if Faith thought he was sexy before than that smile nearly made her cream her panties right then and there. ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY GRADE A ++ PURE 100 LEAN BEEFCAKE! Rising to his feet, the young man cleaned his hands off on a towel and approached her, hand out to shake hers. "Hello, I haven't seen you here before. I'm Xander Harris. And who would you be to be here so late after school?"

Her smile was sultry and sizzling, and Xander had to gulp in spite of his perpetual serenity as he looked at her. Her voice was equally sexy, a velvety purr that would make any man's self control start to melt. "The name's Faith, boy toy."

"Ah, the new Slayer."

Instantly, Faith went on alert. "How'd you know that? How do you even know about Slayers?"

Small smile still in place, Xander responded with a shrug. "Giles mentioned you to me. I used to be part of the Scoobies, helping out Buffy."

"Used to be?"

"Let's just say that Miss Summers and I had a falling out over… how to resolve a difficult situation. She doesn't want me in the group anymore so of course the others agree with her, although Giles still gives me the news about the supernatural badness going on around town so I can help where I can. Not that they'd appreciate any help that I gave them if they knew about it."

Faith snorted and gave him a nod. "I hear that. No matter what I do, it's like I'll always be an outsider to them. Well, later boy toy."

As she turned to leave, the Slayer heard his soft, well spoken voice again. "Faith?" She turned back, staring him right in those amazing eyes. "Yeah?"

"You can talk to Giles about it."

At this, she blinked. "Talk with G about what? What the hell are you talking about?"

His eyes… They were staring right through her. For a minute, Faith felt like she couldn't breathe. Xander spoke again, his voice even lower, drawing her in. Damn, did this guy have this affect on all women? "I have a talent for reading people, Faith. You're hiding behind a mask. Beneath it, you're scared, uncertain, and feel like you have nobody to turn to. Talk to Giles, he'll see to it that it's taken care of."

Then he turned back to his work, leaving Faith to stare at the boy… no, at the man that had so easily read her very soul. Licking suddenly dry lips, Faith started for the library.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith sat in the library, nursing a cup of tea. Three hours ago, she'd told Giles everything. Everything about her Watcher's death, about being on the run, and about Kakistos being here. Giles had just polished his glasses, thanked her for being honest with him, and then told her to wait in the library before walking out the door. Fifteen minutes later, he'd told her that the situation was as good as handled. When she'd incredulously asked him how he could say something like that, the Watcher just smiled sadly and asked if she'd like a cup of tea. Her first Watcher, Linda, had managed to teach her to have an appreciation of the beverage, so she'd accepted. Giles soon produced a pair of tea cup and a large pot, telling her that now they'd wait. What they were waiting for, Faith was still uncertain about.

Staring intently into her cup of tea, the only thing she heard that indicated something had happened was Giles sharp gasp. Raising her head, Faith gawked right alongside him. There, dressed in a shredded Chinese shirt and swaying on his feet as blood ran down a variety of injuries, was the boy she'd met earlier who told her to talk to Giles, Xander. There were also tears in his eyes, although Faith couldn't be sure if they were from pain or something else. The amazing part of it was that despite his injuries he still had that perfectly calm, serene air about him.

Voice dead calm, Xander addressed Giles. "It's done, Giles. Kakistos, his lieutenants, and the majority of the minions that he'd gathered are all dust." With that incredible statement said, Xander's eyes rolled up towards the back of his head and he began falling forwards. Only Faith's Slayer speed and reflexes saved him from a nasty nosedive. Voice gentle but with more than just a hint of concern, Giles motioned her towards his office. "Come, I have a cot in my office. Lay him down there, Faith."

Nodding mutely, she carried the boy to the back. As she did so, Giles couldn't help but notice how gently she held him in her arms, far more gently than he'd ever seen Faith treat anyone. He also noticed how she kept glancing at his face, still disarmingly handsome in spite of the blood covering it. It seemed like the inherent sway over women that Yo Hinomura's presence had left with Xander had already begun to draw Faith to him. The thought made Giles smile.

Xander had become skilled and powerful since being possessed by Freeman. His innovations, such as bullets cast from melted down crosses and cooled with holy water and knives crafted from ironwood, had made him just as effective if not more so than a Slayer. His defeat of Kakistos tonight had proven that. But ever since Buffy had cast him out of the group for killing Angel, Giles had become increasingly worried about Xander, concerned as more and more of the boy that he knew seemed to be replaced by Freeman as his ties to his friends were severed and their emotional support taken away. The young man had often discussed the character of Crying Freeman, and explained how it was the support of his wife, Emu Hino, that had allowed Yo Hinomura to retain some humanity. Xander didn't have that sort of support, and needed it badly. Likewise, he could now see that Faith needed her own support, someone that she could trust and rely upon. With a bit of luck, those two could be what each other needed.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith sighed in contentment as she snuggled against her boyfriend's naked chest, trailing a finger lazily along the intricate dragon tattoo that covered his body from ankle to shoulder. If you'd told her a year and a half ago that she'd be snuggling with a guy, she'd have laughed in your face, and if you'd said that she'd be in a loving and committed relationship, she'd have called you crazy. But yet, here she was, enjoying just lying in bed with one Xander Harris. He'd gained her respect and gratitude when he'd killed Kakistos. But when she'd really begun to grow feelings for him, feelings that she'd never had before, was when he turned her down after she came onto him. He didn't even say anything she could just see in those mesmerizing eyes of his that he cared about her and respected her too much to do anything with her that wasn't for the right reasons, that he refused to hurt her. Nobody since Linda had cared about her or respected her, not even B or the Scoobies although Giles did his best managing two Slayers equally. That's when she started to fall in love with Xander Harris, the most dangerous, gentle, beautiful person that she'd ever known.

It's not to say that their relationship was without hurdles. They both had childhood traumas that made them wary of placing trust in another, and Xander had his own issues from the possession of Yo Hinomura and his persona of Crying Freeman. But through a combination of understanding, growing trust, a desire to be with somebody, and most importantly in Faith's book some truly mind-blowing sex, they'd persevered. Now the two of them were the greatest vampire hunting duo of all history, and Faith had never been happier.

As for Xander, as he gazed down at Faith, the woman that had become his sense of balance just as Emu had been Yo's, he wondered if Faith would object to getting some tiger tattoos.

End Story 2

Note: The reference to tiger tattoos indicates that Xander is planning on marrying Faith, as after Emu Hino joined the 108 Dragons and received her tiger tattoos in the Crying Freeman series that she and Yo were married.

Character: Yo Hinomura/Crying Freeman; from the Crying Freeman manga (1986-88), anime (1988), and movies (1990 and 1995).

Next story: X1


	3. Chapter 3

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Leave comments on the last chapter. Writing this chapter on about two hours of sleep and not nearly enough caffeine, so be gentle.

Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy, don't own anything else.

Story 3: X1

Xander just happened to stumble onto his costume for that evening… quite literally in fact. When it became obvious that going as a soldier wasn't going to pan out, he'd started wandering the aisles of the costume shop looking for a costume. As he was walking along, he'd tripped over an old-style motorcycle helmet that had rolled off of the shelf and he fell flat on his face. The owner was apologetic, and as a way of making it up to Xander he'd let the boy take the helmet, a pair of racing goggles, motorcycle gloves, and an accompanying jacket all for just two dollars. It made Xander smile inside. The Two Dollar Costume King lived on! And this Halloween, he was going as Xander Harris, motorcycle racer. What could go wrong?

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Keiichi Morisato really, really, REALLY hoped that he was just under the effects of one of Urd's failed attempts at a love potion again and that this was all just a really bizarre dream. The only other thing he could think of was that the demoness Mara had sent him to some American small town filled with demons shorter than him in order to get a rise out of his girlfriend, the goddess Belldandy. Reaching up he pinched his cheek, giving out a yelp of pain. Alright, not a dream then. So, what should the poor little mortal whose spur of the moment wish all those years ago had caused him to wind up living with three real life goddesses do in a situation like this?

Simple. He picked up the nearest phone, dialed a number completely at random, and hoped that whoever was manning the lines at the Goddess Relief Office tonight was one of the multiple goddesses that he actually got along with. Hope soared within him when he heard the line pick up, and then was promptly dashed when it turned out to be an automated message for the local repair shop. Banging his head against the phone booth in frustration and a slight welling of panic, he did the only other thing he could think of. He prayed. "Belldandy, where are you?"

"I'm right here, Keiichi."

The Japanese college student turned around to see a sight that he always found beautiful, the gentle, smiling face of Belldandy, goddess first-class unlimited, the goddess of the present and sister to the other two Norns, and most importantly to him the woman who wanted to stay with him forever. Relieved to see her, he put aside his normal shyness and embraced her, noticing as he did that he was somehow taller as he was usually the same height as Belldandy and now had to lean his head down to meet her eyes. "Bell! I'm so relieved you found me! What's going on?! Is this Mara's doing?! Why am I taller?!"

Belldandy just gave him one of her soft smiles, immediately stopping his panicked blathering and giving him comfort. "Keiichi, you were affected by a divine spell. You're not in your own body; your spirit is currently possessing someone else. In fact, we're not even in your home dimension right now, but a different part of the multiverse." Keiichi's response was a blank look, followed by a clueless "huh?" Belldandy held up her hand to her mouth and laughed, the musical sound soothing the spirits of the transformed children all around her and causing them to find peace. "It's really simple actually, Keiichi. There are trillions of worlds, billions of universes, and millions of different realities, all interconnected in one way or another. We call this the multiverse. Your consciousness has been shifted from one point in the multiverse to another, and been given a host."

Understanding was dawning upon poor confused Keiichi, but there was still one part he didn't get. "Bell, if we're in an entirely different part of this multiverse, how're you here?"

At this, Belldandy leaned forward and placed a soft, tender kiss to his cheek. Keiichi flushed red at the show of affection, an embarrassed yet pleased grin spreading over his face. Taking his face within her dainty hands that held so much power when she unleashed it, the goddess stared deeply into her mortal boyfriend's eyes. Her melodic voice was a mere whisper, caressing his ears and making him feel like he could do anything as long as if was for her. "Don't you remember the wish that you were granted by Yggdrasil, Keiichi? You wished for me to be by your side forever. Over time, that has become my wish as well. The forces of the universe itself have bound us together for eternity. Wherever you go, I will be there beside you. Now then, let's end this spell and get you back home to your body!"

With that said Belldandy took Keiichi by the hand and led him over to the mirrored window of a nearby storefront, both of them disappearing into Belldandy's transport medium. Just as they disappeared, a frantic redhead raced by, looking for her best friend.

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Ethan Rayne, as a worshipper of chaos, had seen a lot of weird and fantastic things in his life. But watching a radiantly beautiful woman in flowing robes with a trio of markings on her forehead and cheeks dragging a young man with her through one of the mirrors in the shop was certainly a new experience. Also a new experience was the fact that when she turned to him and frowned sadly, politely stating that what he'd done "wasn't very nice", he'd felt an incredible shame that he couldn't describe and Ethan was known to be utterly shameless. After this was over, he thought that maybe he'd get out of the chaos business and become a volunteer at a children's hospital or donate to a charity or something.

However, the events of two people coming out from a mirror and his growing of a conscience paled in comparison to what was currently happening in his store. After gently scolding him, the strange woman had FLOATED over to the bust of Janus and politely asked to "have a word with Janus-san". Instantly, another being had appeared in the shop, a being that Ethan identified as the chaotic god Janus. A Janus that was currently sweating bullets and tugging nervously at a non-existent collar as he smiled weakly at the woman staring at him reprovingly. "B-Belldandy. Fancy… fancy meeting you here in a place like this. Eh, heh, heh… Er, is there something that I can do for you?"

Janus wasn't a moron. No god wanted to mess with one of the Norns, the sister goddesses of the past, present, and future. You especially didn't want to mess with Belldandy. Her sisters Urd and Skuld would make anyone who even thought of doing something mean to their kind middle sister immensely sorry, and Urd especially had a talent for vengeance since her mother was the ruler of Hell. But the wrath of the two sisters paled in comparison to an angry Belldandy. Bell was the sweetest, kindest, most gentle goddess that there ever was and equally patient and slow to anger. Despite that, she was a Class 1 Category 1 unlimited goddess, a level of power second only to the all powerful Kami-sama himself. And when you managed to do something to actually irk her, then a visit to hell would seem like a pleasant seaside vacation compared to what she could do. Janus didn't know what he'd done, but he could tell that Belldandy was seriously irritated with him and he could only hope that he'd have a chance to fix whatever it was before she became truly furious with him.

Belldandy's voice was loud and firm, overflowing with command and possessing none of her usual soft tones. "You can release this spell Janus, and allow my boyfriend's spirit to return to his body in his own universe." Both Ethan and Janus winced at that statement. Crap, the both of them had, however inadvertantlyly, wound up toying with the beloved of a goddess. Not even Hild, Urd's demonic mother and equal to Kami-sama, could quite match the fury of a goddess whose loved ones had been trifled with. They were just lucky that the offended party was somebody as forgiving as Belldandy, and not one of the war goddesses like Athena or a spirit of retribution like Nemesis. Nodding his head rapidly to indicate his most enthusiastic compliance, Janus cancelled the power to the spell returning everyone to normal before disappearing as suddenly as he'd appeared. Ethan meanwhile managed to sneak out of the back door. Screw volunteer work or donating to charity. After this fiasco he was becoming a monk.

Xander Harris shook himself back to awareness just in time to feel Belldandy place a hand upon his forehead, the kindest smile that he'd ever seen on anyone's face directed right at him. In that moment, his insecurities, his petty grudges, his fears about himself, his shame at his crappy home life, and everything else that held him back from being as great in spirit as he could be just melted away. For the first time in his life, Xander knew with absolutely no doubt whatsoever that his father was wrong, that he was not worthless and that he had a lot to offer.

The goddess spoke gently to him, radiant smile still firmly in place. "Thank you for hosting my Keiichi's spirit, Xander. I don't believe that his mind could have possibly been placed within a worthier vessel. Despite your faults, you have one of the best natures of anyone on this world. I can't grant a wish for you, but I can give you my blessing."

Standing up on her tiptoes, the goddess of the present pressed her lips to Xander's forehead, whispering so that even if anyone else was still in the shop only he could hear. "May you be filled with kindness and generosity, may friendship surround you always, and may you find the same completeness that I have found."

With that she was gone, leaving Xander Harris alone with the warm feeling of her lips still on his forehead, a handful of memories from a young mechanic drifting through his mind, and a much lighter spirit.

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Angelus snarled at the boy standing there in front of Buffy's hospital room. He wanted desperately to snap the teenager's neck like a piece of kindling. Xander had become such a good guy, so pure and innocent ever since gaining some of the thoughts and personality of one Keiichi Morisato that his demonic instincts were drooling at the thought of what beautiful pain his death would cause his friends. The only thing stopping him was the compressed air powered stake launcher held in the boy's hands. Unfortunately, Morisato's engineering skills and intelligence had also stayed with Harris.

Snarling at the whelp's defiant and determined gaze, the vampire threw the flowers in his hands at him before stalking off, snarling over his shoulder at the boy. "Give her those; let her know that I was here."

Xander watched as Angelus exited the hospital, silently promising Angel that they'd get him back. Angel needed their help to regain his soul and get back to normal. Keiichi Morisato had always been one to give help to anybody who needed it, and now Xander Harris was too.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander grunted in satisfaction from underneath the classic Harley Davidson as he finished tightening the last screw. These days, the auto shop teachers simply loved him and he'd managed to make good money working as a part time mechanic. He also loved racing almost anything that could move and had a special fondness for motorcycles. It was actually this mutual love for motorbikes and high speeds that had brought him together with his partner for this restoration project. "She's all done, Faith. This baby will run smoother than vanilla ice cream over Mrs. Summers' home baked apple pie now."

The dark haired Slayer smiled in genuine appreciation. Growing up, she had always been a motorcycle sort of girl and a grease monkey at heart. Finding someone in Sunnydale with the exact same hobbies as her had given her exactly what she'd needed all of her life, a friend. Hanging out with Xander so often, Faith had discovered that he was something that until a few months ago she didn't think existed; a genuinely good guy. The two of them were as thick as thieves these days, the majority of their waking hours spent in each other's presence. She loved talking with him, working in the auto shop with him, laughing with him at his stupid jokes and stories about the crazier adventures that this Keiichi that he'd told her about had been on, and just plain old hanging out with him. For the first time in forever, Faith had someone she could rely on, and it felt nice.

"Great work, boy toy! Maybe later I'll have to give you a… reward."

She licked her moist lips slowly, and Xander flushed crimson as he turned away in embarrassment. Faith began roaring in laughter as the emotionally shy boy fidgeted, uncomfortable with the thought of intimacy even with the bond the two of them had developed. And of course a big plus in her books was that he was just so fun to tease!

End Story 3: X1

Notes: The title X1 refers to Keiichi's name which is often abbreviated into K1, since "ichi" is Japanese for the number one. And if you haven't already guessed by now, I'm a fan of Faith/Xander pairings. So if I bother making a pairing in these stories, it'll probably be Xander getting together with Faith. If you've got a problem with that, tough bananas. I like it, so it stays.

Character: Keiichi Morisato from the Oh! My Goddess manga (began 1988 and still ongoing)

Next story: Monobrowed White Knight


	4. Chapter 4

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: I want to once again thank everyone for all of the reviews I've gotten. While I don't consider this to be my best work, I hope that it's been enough to entertain you. Now there are three things I want to address before I begin.

Some reviewers for the last chapter commented that a Keiichi influenced Xander wouldn't pull Angel's soul from its final rest. Now not only would he not necessarily think of it in that manner, but consider this; if Angel's soul was truly at rest then why does he need to work for redemption for acts the demon inside his corpse committed? Angel wasn't the nicest guy around when he was alive, and even with a soul he's done some questionable things. My theory is that when his soul's not stuffed in his corpse along with Angelus that it's probably in Purgatory or something.

Secondly, other reviewers have asked if I'm doing all anime/manga crossovers. The answer is no. I'll also be using characters from movies, video games, comics, and literature. I simply haven't gotten to them yet.

Finally, I know that I said this chapter was going to be "Monobrowed White Knight", but due to writer's block for that character I'm doing another one. So throw on your Halloween finest, get yourself a big bowl of candy, park your kiester in front of the computer and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Xander Harris, the BTVS series and characters, or any other works of fiction and characters that I mention.

Story 4: Al'der, Rider of Jesse

Despite popular opinion, Xander did know what books were and not just because of all the research parties that he and the other Scoobies were part of. In fact, Xander had a secret. A secret so dark, that anyone who learned it could never look at him the same way again. Even Willow, his bestest bud since the sandbox, didn't know this closely guarded little fact about him. Are you ready for this revelation?

Xander LOVED to read.

Before he even had Willow, Xander had books. They were his only friends in his younger days. While his parents were yelling at each other in the kitchen, he was upstairs, his imagination allowing him to be anyplace other than his dirty little room. He only hid his love for books because he saw how other kids treated Willow because she was "brainy", and because he could tell that part of Willow's fragile self-confidence was based around being the smart one between the two of them. But even though he hid his genuine interests in reading, it was still his favorite escape. When his dad came home reeking of booze, Xander could escape to Treasure Island or travel to the planet Pern. When his mother just lay about the house staring at nothing, he was comforted by Gandalf and Peter Pan.

Sadly, vampire hunting had seriously cut into his secret reading time. Books had almost become something to be feared, as he usually only read them these days when they were researching some new threat or dangerous foe. So that's why on this Halloween, when the supernatural would be quiet for just one night, he was going to take back some of the love for his books that had been stolen from him. He'd dress in honor of one of his favorite book series of all time. He already had a suitable leather jacket, some boots, and trousers at home. Now he just needed an old leather aviator's helmet, a pair of gloves, a satchel, and a stuffed dragon for his costume to be complete.

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Al'der, formerly Alexander second son of the Masterhealer of Benden Hold, blinked in confusion as he noticed that he wasn't currently fifty dragon lengths up in the air like he'd been just a second ago. He blinked again before gaping at the place he found himself in. By the Egg of Faranth! What dragonless place was this?! The homes weren't made out of thick stone, he couldn't see any nearby Hold for the local people to take shelter in, and there was vegetation and growth all about! Were these people a bunch of deadglows?! How did they expect to survive the Pass for more than a turn if they didn't take proper measures against the Thread?!

He was broken out of his appalled shock by a concerned rumbling behind him, and he turned to see two brilliant multifaceted eyes larger than his hand shining through the night, whirling with the colors and motions indicating confusion and worry. Instantly Al'der calmed himself and reached out towards his bond mate, the blue dragon Jesse, soothing it with gentle thoughts sent over their bond and his hand rubbing behind the ridges over the dragon's eyes. He'd been found on Search during the fifth turn of the Pass when he was just nine turns old by the rider B'fol of green Gereth and taken to Benden Wyer. And there on the Hatching Ground, he had locked eyes with a freshly born blue dragonet and in an instant their Bond had formed.

The Bond between dragon and rider has sometimes been described as being like marriage, but such a thing doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the Bond's nature. It is the greatest, most all encompassing thing upon the planet Pern. The dragon and it's human rider were linked heart, mind, and spirit, one soul in two bodies. The dragon was born for the rider and the rider was born for the dragon. Without it's rider, the dragon couldn't live. Without their dragon, most riders wouldn't want to live. When one died, the other always followed them into death. Such was the greatness and strength of the Bond that one couldn't bear to live without it after having known it.

Soon Jesse's eyes turned a softer color and the spinning slowed as the dragon let out a content warble. Al'der smiled. There might not be as much honor being the rider of one of the smaller blues as compared to the honor given to the riders of the enormous browns and massive bronzes. But he had been bonded to Jesse for eight turns now, and he wouldn't give the blue up for the riches of all the Lord Holders combined. Quickly climbing astride Jesse's long neck, Al'der commanded the dragon to leap into the air and spread it's wings. He might not know where they were, and something deep inside of him warned that trying to teleport to the Wyer through the airless and freezing nothingness of the Void would be suicide. But he'd feel better if he and Jesse were airborne. As soon as the two of them had settled down, then they could try to figure out where on Pern they were.

Suddenly, as they flew over a startled blonde haired man walking below, Jesse hissed in agitation and turned his head back to Al'der, the action indicating that the blue wanted fire-stone so that it could breathe forth flames. Al'der was needless to say puzzled by this. The skies were clear of Thread, the deadly and ravenous alien organisms that during every Pass mindlessly descended upon Pern to devour all that they fell upon. Only in the presence of the plague that they had fought for countless generations did dragons become truly agitated. Confused, Al'der sent his thoughts to his partner, asking what was troubling him. Jesse responded that the man below FELT like THREAD to his senses. Stunned, Al'der stared down at the blonde haired man in the black coat, and before his eyes he saw the other man's face… transform into something that could only be described as inhuman and as terrifying as the Threads that had threatened his world since the time of his ancient ancestors.

Face grim, Al'der reached into the satchel on the side of Jesse's neck, pulling out a fist sized chunk of the phosphine-bearing mineral that dargonmen called fire-stone, the material that dragons chewed in order to produce the gases they used to breathe fire. Fire was one of the only things that could destroy Thread, and practically the only thing at all that could destroy it in the air before it hit the surface and infested the very ground it burrowed into. This… Thread-like creature in human form would burn just like any other menace that the Red Star sent at them. For dragonriders must fly when Thread is in the sky, and if it was on the ground then they'd follow it there if need be.

Spike barely had time to curse before the dragon reared back it's head and wreathed him in a cone of searing flames, leaving not even dust of William the Bloody.

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"Foolish girl. No weapon forged by man can kill me."

Standing by the Judge's side, Angelus couldn't help but smirk. The easily assured victories were the best ones in his own humble opinion. But something didn't feel right. Why was Buffy smiling even after her crossbow shot had proven to be less than effective? Why didn't the other Scoobies look concerned? What did they know that he didn't?

With a start, Angelus noticed something that he should have seen before. Something that sent shivers down his spine. Xander wasn't there with the others. Months ago, Angelus would have dismissed the boy as being no threat even if he knew better deep down. But after Halloween, things had changed. It wasn't safe to be undead or a demon and to be wandering out in the open anymore. The smart ones never left their caves, crypts, or sewers anymore. Angelus, his followers, and the Judge were inside so they should be safe. The problem was that they were inside a mall. A mall with a large window on the roof…

With a shattering of glass, a massive blue head with furiously spinning red eyes peeked into the inside of the mall. Astride the dragon's muscular neck, Xander Harris couldn't help but give a wicked grin. The Judge might not be able to be harmed by any weapon forged, but few things could survive flames hotter than any forge known to man. Staring at the petrified Scourge of Europe where he stood rooted next to the demon, Xander smirked. "Time to burn, Thread-spawn. Scorch it, Jesse!"

And as the flames came down, all Angelus could do was whimper.

End of Story 4: Al'der, Rider of Jesse

Character: Dragonrider from Anne McCaffrey's The Dragonriders of Pern series (literature, began 1968 with the book Dragonflight)

Next story: Xander #9


	5. Chapter 5

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Considering reviewer response to the last chapter, I felt I needed to address several things that were brought up. So listen up snowecat, this is for you.

First, Xander got a blue dragon because I needed him to have one of the smaller dragon types and I just didn't think that a green fit him. Can you imagine hiding a brown or a bronze dragon? Not even Sunnydale Denial Syndrome works THAT well. Besides that, the dragon would have to blend in well at night, and be small fast and agile in order to skim right over the rooftops and trees of Sunnydale so that they can get at where the vamps and demons are; hence, a blue dragon. Second, fire-stone contains phosphines that when ingested by a dragon produces phosphorus which is what they use to breathe fire, and I'm sure that Xander could find an acceptable real world substitute. If worst comes to worst, he could steal a flamethrower like what queen riders use and I doubt few things even on the Hellmouth can survive having an angry dragon using their head as a chew toy. Third, as to how Xander will keep Jesse fed I'm sure that Giles could appropriate some funds in order to buy a couple of large turkeys a day since the Watchers would likely want to stay on the good side of somebody who has a telepathic dragon that can transport anywhere instantly. Failing that, as I said Jesse can teleport anywhere instantly and I'm sure that with the relatively small size of a blue an elephant plucked from the African savannah could keep him fed for a month or so. Fourth, yes it would be cool if another character dressed as another dragonrider. In fact, my original idea when I came up with this a year ago was to have Xander dress as a bronze rider and for Faith to somehow acquire the costume of a queen rider leading to the eventual rise of the dragonriders on Earth; however I couldn't make this work with the limited time I have to get these chapters out, so I changed it. Maybe I'll come back to the idea some other time, although it's unlikely. Finally, in no way, shape or form is a journey Between to Pern even remotely possible. Remember in Dragonflight what happened to Lessa after she went between to four hundred years in the past? She barely made it, and she's one of the greatest Wyerwomen in the history of Pern. Can you imagine Xander surviving a trip between not only the distance of different galaxies, but between times and realities as well? Never happen; even if he had an air supply and protective clothing against the cold then being between for that long could easily break his sanity. Even if he made it to Pern, he'd go from being the sole dragonrider on Earth to just another mere blue rider amongst hundreds on Pern. So no, not happening. But thanks for your interest and great review!

Anyway, thank you all for reading and reviewing. Now on to the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I own neither Buffy nor any other intellectual properties that I utilize.

Story 5: Xander #9

Xander couldn't help it. He gawked as he stared over Jonathan's shoulder at the Japanese manga that the other boy was reading. Sure he didn't understand the story since he didn't read Japanese, but damn! It wasn't every day that you saw someone easily beat four larger guys with submachine guns using only their coat, a couple of small throwing knives, a length of wire with a lead weight at the end, and some impressive hand to hand skills. Or watch them guide three other people through a trap filled jungle, get them across an open field while an enemy plane was above strafing them, and then manage to fly a Harrier jet fighter while wounded. And the picture at the beginning of the chapter was impressive, with the figure dressed in standard military fatigues and loaded down to the gills with guns, ammo, and even a rocket launcher. Most impressive of all was that the guy in these pictures looked to be about his age!

He might not understand the story, but Xander didn't need to in order to realize that this was a seriously cool character. In fact, he was just perfect. He'd intended to go as a soldier for Halloween tonight anyway. But why go as an average grunt when he could go as something more?

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Kou Shinozuka was not fazed in the slightest. Suddenly disappearing from headquarters and reappearing in what was obviously an American small town, in California if they were reading the situation correctly, did not raise any concern at all. All this unusual event did was cause the soldier to bring themselves to full alert. Holding the M-16 in a guard position, Kou quickly took stock of the chaos all around and of the equipment available. A civil disturbance was in progress, although the perpetrators weren't even recognizable as human. As for supplies, Kou had an M-16, machete, some throwing knives, several lengths of wire including garrotes, explosives and a remote detonator, a basic pack with canteen, four ammo pouches with two clips for the M-16 each, a LAW light anti-tank weapon, survival knife, and a feed of ammo for an M-60 light machine gun although Kou didn't have one of those weapons. In other words, just standard equipment for a typical mission.

The soldier didn't even twitch at the approach of the scantily clad redhead. Although the fact that she didn't have a shadow or that Kou couldn't hear her footfalls was interesting. As for Willow, she didn't have to ask anything to know that this wasn't Xander. Xander didn't have this… weight about him. It was like the very air around this figure was heavier. As if the only reason that the world was still spinning on its axis was because of them. Hesitant, Willow spoke. "Who are you?"

The figure responded in a calm, pleasant tone, a small smile on their face although there was something about it that felt manufactured. "Kou Shinozuka."

This of course was a lie. While the soldier might refer to themselves as Kou Shinozuka, the name was just a cover. They had no name, not really. The closest thing that this figure had to a name was their operational codename, Musashi. Even then, they were more often called by their designation, Number 9.

Musashi was an agent for an organization called Ultimate Blue. The intelligence agencies of every country in the world knew less than nothing about this organization. They didn't even know where it was based, whether it was the blue of the sea, sky, or the blue of the Earth itself. The organization was undetectable, untraceable, and unstoppable. They had agents in every country, limitless resources, and unrivalled information gathering abilities. UB was the most powerful force on Earth, called the "other United Nations" by those who knew the rumors of the organization's existence. They were the last line of defense against chaos and anarchy in the world, working behind the scenes to ensure that no one person, group, or government would tip the current balance of power or disturb the peace beyond an acceptable limit. Ultimate Blue owed allegiance to no one country, favored no single government as long as they stayed in line, and had no allies; they didn't need them. But the most terrifying thing about UB was the Nine.

Every UB agent had a number. And at the very head of the organization's forces were nine that had the distinction of having a single digit for their number. These nine were the elite amongst the elite. Each had unparalleled training, discipline, skills, and experience. They were armies in and of themselves. It was said both inside of UB and amongst the rest of the world that a member of the Nine had the ability to change the course of history single handedly. And the scary thing was that they were absolutely correct.

Musashi was agent Number 9, the last member of the single digit agents. Trained since birth, Musashi had been a member of the Nine and had gone on covert operations since before the age of ten. From flying and unbelievable marksmanship to martial arts and acting, there was nothing that Musashi couldn't do. The soldier was only sixteen, but entire nations trembled at the thought of their existence.

Before long, Willow had explained to the soldier what was going on. Agreeing to help the girl since there were no orders or objectives to follow at that moment, Musashi followed along after the redhead in search of this Buffy.

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The morning after Halloween, Giles was surprised to find Xander Harris waiting in the library bright and early, the boy's features much softer and more slender than they had been the night before. The teenager looked upset, although the Watcher could barely tell past the steely control Xander seemed to have suddenly gained over his facial expressions. Turning to the librarian, Xander nodded in greeting and spoke in a respectful and perfectly controlled tone of voice. "Mister Giles. I seem to have a problem, sir."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander smiled in satisfaction as the explosive charges went off, devastating the abandoned warehouse and taking the remaining three quarters of the group known as the Scourge of Europe with it. Angelus should have predicted what Xander would do, but without his soul the vampire just became another arrogant, single minded bloodsucker. Now to report to Giles and Ms. Calendar. Buffy would be upset, but the soldier within Xander didn't care. It had done what was necessary, and protected the world from a threat. That was the soldier's entire reason for existence.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith sputtered in shock at what she was seeing. Xander had just rescued her from the demon, so she'd dragged the Scooby up to her hotel room to "thank" him. However, the Slayer hadn't expected what she'd seen after ripping the other demon hunter's shirt open despite Xander's protests. A pair of small, athletic, but undeniably feminine breasts lay there exposed to Faith's eyes, firmly and quite naturally attached to Xander's chest. Surprised right out of her lust, Faith pointed at Xander, eyes wide and voice shaking. "W-wh-what the hell is this?!"

Xander smiled a little sadly and buttoned his… no, HER shirt back up. "I've already told you about how I dressed up as a character from a manga for Halloween last year. How that's the reason why I have the skills that I do. However, at the time what I failed to realize and what I haven't yet told you was that Kou Shinozuka, despite looking like a guy, was actually a girl. The whole thing is a big joke in the manga series, with countless girls falling in love with the beautiful and mysterious 'boy' that they've met, but realizing in the end that Kou is really a girl. True, I used to be a guy, and I still like girls, but I haven't found anyone whose comfortable being with me like this yet."

Smiling gently at Faith, Xander held out her hand to the other girl. "I'm flattered Faith, I truly am. And I wish that I could accept your offer. But I doubt that it would work, for either of us. Instead, could you be my friend?"

Still blushing in embarrassment, a feat worthy of legend considering this was Faith, the girl gave a true smile for the first time and accepted the hand offered to her. In the end, friendship and acceptance were all that she really wanted. "Friends."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Within the Hellmouth, fighting against an army of Turok-han super vampires, Buffy Summers stared with her mouth opened in shock at what she was seeing. Beside her were her friends and family, Dawn, Giles, Willow, Ms. Calendar now Mrs. Giles, Andrew, Oz, Faith, and the majority of the freshly empowered baby Slayers that Willow had called using the Slayer scythe and a powerful spell. In front of them, holding off dozens of prehistoric vampires by herself, was Xander Harris, moving at speeds that only one other sort of human being on Earth could hope to match. A Slayer.

Turning to the red haired witch of their group, Buffy couldn't help but glare. Willow raised her hands defensively. "Hey! There's no way that I could have known that Xander's heritage was such that he would have been a Potential Slayer if he'd been born as a girl! I didn't know that his turning into a girl had made him a Potential! I certainly didn't expect the spell to turn him… I mean her... Into a Slayer! It's not my fault!"

Ignoring the bickering blonde Slayer and redheaded witch behind her, Faith was cheering on her best friend, shouting out encouragement, advice, and praise as Xander pulled off moves that were impressive even by Slayer standards. Becoming a Slayer basically enhanced your already existing physical abilities. For example, since Buffy had been a cheerleader before being Called she'd been in great physical shape and very acrobatic. This had translated into her superior agility, speed, and flexibility as a Slayer. Faith similarly had been in dozens of brawls and had to run from both gangster wannabes and cops more than once before becoming a Slayer. Xander however had relentlessly trained her body to be the epitome of human perfection, strong, supple, agile, and fluid. She was already at near Slayer levels just on skill, talent, and physical conditioning alone. Now, with the Slayer essence augmenting all of that….

Well needless to say, it was very impressive.

Laughing, Faith called out to her best friend of the last four years. "You go girl!" And maybe, after this was all over, Faith could finally give Xander that reward that she'd intended to give the still single girl all those years ago, plus interest for willing to be the anchor that had supported Faith and kept her on the right path. She hadn't been ready that night when she'd discovered Xander's new gender. As Xander had said, it wouldn't have worked for either of them. But Faith had changed over the years of knowing her best friend. Xander had changed too. Maybe now, it could work.

End Story 5: Xander #9

Notes: Who saw that coming? What can I say; I'm also a bit of a gender bending fan so long as it's done tastefully. Musashi is one of my all time favorite characters, and I loved putting Xander into her shoes. Oh, and by the way in case you haven't realized the reason why I started putting publish dates next to the series that I take the characters from is because of a reader complaint about using characters that didn't even exist during the time of the Halloween episode. Just so you know. If anyone has any questions about the series that I use, feel free to ask. I know that Musashi #9 isn't very well known, but I still hope that you enjoyed the character.

Character: Kou Shinozuka/Musashi/#9 from the manga Musashi #9 (1996)

Next story: Slayer


	6. Chapter 6

**31 Days of Xanderween **

Author's notes: Crap. Having to struggle through some writer's block. This isn't going to turn out well. And some of my reviewers are going to complain because the character that I'm using wasn't around yet at the time of the Halloween episode. But I really, really want to use this character. I just hope that you all forgive me and will bear with me.

Disclaimer: Don't own nothing.

Story 6: Slayer

It wasn't easy for Xander, going through Jesse's things. His best friend's parents had finally, after over a year, come to accept that Jesse wasn't just missing and that he wasn't coming home. Xander's heart had broken every time that they'd asked him if he'd heard from Jesse, knowing that he couldn't tell them the truth. Even if they were to believe in vampires, what parent wanted to hear that their only son had been drained of his blood and had a demonic entity shoved into his corpse? And how would they react if they knew that it was Xander, Jesse's brother in all but blood, who had slain the monster that his best friend had become? No, he couldn't do that. So for over a year, he'd let them cling to false hope, and now they'd finally broken down enough that Jesse's parents were giving up. Xander was here to help pack away Jesse's things, since the McNally's just couldn't bear to look at them anymore.

Shoving mementos and prized belongings that signified his friend's life into plain cardboard boxes, Xander became increasingly angry. Human beings were just cattle to vamps and demons. The monsters didn't care that their victims had lives, futures, and families that loved them. Hell, he'd read Giles' Watcher diaries researching Angelus after Angel had been revealed as a vampire, and knew that more often than not freshly made vampires would come back home and slaughter their own families and friends. They truly were without souls. The more Xander thought about it, the angrier he became and the more he was reminded of why he fought; for revenge, to keep his friends safe, to prove his father wrong about Xander being worthless, to make sure that as few people as possible had to feel the same loss that he did, and above all else because somebody had to.

As he was thinking and putting away Jesse's collection of books, the teen came across one of Jesse's role playing books, bought just a few weeks before his death. On a whim, Xander flipped through it. The game looked fairly interesting. But when he glimpsed something towards the back of the book, he was struck by inspiration. He needed a costume for Halloween and this... this was perfect. Not only could he honor his friend's memory, but he could also honor his hero, Buffy Summers, the person he secretly wished he could be more like in some ways.

Slipping the book back in the box with the others, Xander put it away in the closet and then left the room. He'd have to do some shopping for this costume. First to the Salvation Army store to get some appropriate clothing. After that he'd stop by the library and borrow a training sword and one of Giles' Watcher field kits. Finally, he'd have to go to a costume shop for some dark face paint, a wig, and some accessories. This was going to be awesome.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

A grim frown marred Russell Whitfield's dark skinned face, the wind blowing through his dreadlocks. The imposingly tall and broad shouldered African American man surveyed the scene around him, eyes flaring in rage. Shadow was here. It screamed at his senses, the pure evil saturating the very air. Creatures of Shadow ran around in plain sight, causing panic and small riots. Russell knew that nobody would see the monsters before him for what they really were. The very nature of the force known as Shadow clouded and obscured all but a few minds, making people see just deformed humans or unusually large animals instead of the actual monsters right before their eyes. But Russell wasn't one of the clueless masses, he could see the truth within the Shadows. Most normal people would think him insane if he talked about what he saw and fought against; he was alone in a whole world shrouded by darkness. Most others would have either died or tried to return to their ignorance by now.

But Russell was far more than most other men and women. He'd been destined from birth to see the truth and fight against Shadow. Indeed, he was one of the few that could. It was in his blood. For Russell was a Shadow Slayer, a human being empowered by fate to fight against the monsters, undead, magical creatures, demons, and other servants of evil. He was designed right down to his genetic code by some higher power to be able to hunt down and destroy creatures of darkness.

Raising his ever present longsword, Russel concentrated for a moment before the blade began giving off a faint glow, empowered by his own inherent powers. Stepping forward with all the determination in the world, the Shadow Slayer prepared to answer his calling yet again. Shadow would not claim the night while he was here!

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Angelus stared at the Scoobies from where they stood across from him in the mall, the Judge, Drusilla, and a dozen minions beside him. Spike, the idiot, had been dusted on Halloween, never knowing what Ethan Rayne had unwittingly unleashed upon the vampiric and demonic worlds. Standing there was Buffy, Giles, Ms. Calendar, Willow, and Oz. But the one that truly held his attention was a tall, strong figure that just a few months ago Angelus would have dismissed completely.

Xander Harris.

The boy had been forever changed by Halloween, the face paint and wig that he'd bought fusing with him and becoming his real skin and hair. Before Halloween, Xander had been of an average height and build with no real muscle strength or speed. Now, he stood at well over six feet tall, muscles rippling beneath his new chocolate colored skin but without being bulky, speaking of a strength and grace few athletes ever came close to achieving. But what had changed most about Xander was his eyes. They held determination, dedication, and confidence. There was power there, hidden behind those eyes and buried within the teenager's very soul.

And that scared Angelus. Once, Buffy had been deemed to be the only real threat there was to a vampire of his strength. But he'd seen what Xander could do now in the months after his transformation. The boy's strength, power, and ability was terrifying for any vampire or demon to behold. Buffy was second rate compared to this new, more dangerous Xander. Because of that, he'd had to resurrect the Judge. The reason was simple; no other demon stood even a ghost of a chance against the warrior, or Shadow Slayer, that Xander had become.

Xander smirked as he took a step forward. He could feel Angelus' fear, the demonic aura of the vampires and the Judge burning like a searchlight to the Shadow Slayer's supernatural senses. Through it, he could tell how many there were, if there were any other supernatural beings within half a mile of here, and just how strong the creatures he was facing really were. From what he could sense, the only one that would even pose a challenge was the Judge itself. Vampires and a demon. A bunch of undead and a fiend. Fortunately for Xander, those two categories of monsters had been Russell's favored enemies and so Xander had more advantages and experience against them then he would if fighting a different sort of creature.

Smug smirk still in place, the male Slayer strode forward slowly, sword still sheathed at his hip. Sneering at the act of confidence, Angelus threw on a false front of bravado. "Aren't you going to draw your sword, Harris? Not that it will do you any good. No weapon forged by man can harm the Judge!"

The smirk didn't even waver on Xander's face, and everyone could feel power gathering within him. "I know that, Dead Boy. Fortunately for me and bad for you is the fact that I don't need it. I've gained more power and learned a few more tricks since Halloween... Like this one. ATTERO!"

As soon as the word of Latin was shouted, a storm of energy rushed out from Xander and plowed through all the supernatural creatures around him; Oz didn't seem to be affected because Xander had moved far enough ahead of the group in order to be out of range of the werewolf. The moment the wave of power unleashed by the Shadow Slayer's single word reached the minion vampires, they instantly crumbled into dust without even time to scream in agony. Being master vampires and therefore much more powerful, Angelus and Drusilla managed to avoid destruction. However, they both fell to the floor, completely helpless and unable to move in any way. Even the Judge had been dazed by the powerful ability, staggering on it's feet and trying to shake off the disorientation it felt. Xander however wasn't going to give the demon that chance to recover.

Angelus' eyes would have widened if he could have moved them when Xander's fists began glowing. The vampire knew that one of the abilities that Xander had gained as a Shadow Slayer was the ability to enhance and imbue his weapons with magical energy. But he'd been completely unaware that Xander could apply the same power to his bare fists. Giving a mighty cry, Xander pulled his right fist back and then slammed the glowing knuckles right through the Judge's face and out of the back of it's head. Silently, the demon slid off of Xander's outstretched fist and fell to the ground, completely dead.

Grunting as he shook blue demon ichor off of his hand, Xander approached Drusilla's helpless form and finally drew his sword. With a single swing, the insane vampiress was dust in the wind. And then, the world's first and only male Slayer was standing over Angelus, sword raised high in the air. The last member of the Scourge of Europe couldn't see Buffy's face, but if she hadn't said anything yet then it was obvious that she wasn't going to stop Xander from killing him. Oblivion was staring him right in the face, epitomized and given flesh by the ebony features of Xander Harris. Desperately, Angelus managed to barely croak out a single word. "How?"

Xander's face was stoic as he stared down at the vampire that he had once only grudgingly accepted as an ally. It seemed that his concerns about trusting a vampire had been proven correct, and he doubted that the Scoobies would ever question his judgment again. He had just as much of a destiny to fight the demons and vampires as Buffy did now, and he had more power, knowledge, and experience than any other demon hunter before him. "The Slayer weapon and the Word of slaying, Angelus. I can empower any melee weapon, including my own fists, with my own energies making them far more powerful and damaging. And the Word of Slaying is the culmination of a Shadow Slayer's abilities, allowing them to daze, stun, paralyze, or even destroy any nearby supernatural creatures by concentrating their energy into a single word. You never even had a chance, Angelus. I'll see you in hell, right when I eventually go down there to strangle the devil to death with his own intestines. Now die."

As the blade descended, Angelus reflected on what the boy had said. The power of a Shadow Slayer seemed to be enough to challenge even the rulers of some hell dimensions. The boy was right. He'd never stood a chance.

End Story 6: Slayer

Notes: Ok, I know that the d20 modern roleplaying game didn't come out until 2002. But I couldn't help it. I really, really wanted to see Xander as a Shadow Slayer. That character class is just so awesome and is so perfect for someone like Xander to turn into!

Character: Shadow Slayer from the d20 Modern roleplaying game from Wizards of the Coast (2002)

Next Story: From Hellgate to Hellmouth


	7. Chapter 7

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Damn, I'm doing it again. I'm using a character that didn't even exist before the Halloween episode AGAIN. I kind of hate myself right now, and hope that you all can forgive me on this. But like the last time, I really, really, REALLY wanted to see Xander dressed as this character. I'm trying to keep Xander in costumes that would have at the very least existed in some form or another at the time of the Halloween episode, but there are just some characters made afterwards that are practically BEGGING me to use them. And I warn you now, that when my muse firmly latches onto an idea that it simply can't be denied. So once again, I have to beg your forgiveness and ask you to bear with me. Now I'd like to address a few of my reviewers directly.

Snowecat: Eep! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to sound like I was tearing into you or anything! The reason why I responded like that is because I truly loved your review! You'd asked some very good questions, and I wanted to answer them for you. I hope that you'll forgive me if you felt that I was attacking you in any way, shape, or form.

Dargos: That is... an interesting idea. I don't think that I'll use it though. A eunuch is a little too general for my tastes. HOWEVER, your review did give me another idea for a different costume that would have a similar effect as Xander becoming a eunuch. You'll be seeing it a few chapters from now.

Majin Gojira: You're actually one of my favorite reviewer for this fic. You're not afraid to give honest criticism, but you're in no way a flamer and you temper your comments with suggestions and advice. Even if you don't review every chapter, I hope that you keep reading this fic. And I have taken your suggestion about a costume to heart and my muse has decided to run with the idea. It WILL happen.

Stickzx: I hope that despite your dislike of Buffy/anime crossovers, that you have managed to find enjoyment in my writing style and that my stories aren't too tacky. As for your suggestion, 300 wasn't published until 1998. Despite that, my muse likes the idea. I'll see if I can make it work somehow.

Sean Malloy-1: You know, you're not the only one whose asked for 007. I don't have any plans for writing Xander as Bond since I know that it's been done before. But if a few more reviewers all ask for 007, I'll probably go ahead and do it.

Harry2: No, I'm sorry. This story isn't what you think it is. But I hope that you enjoy it anyway.

Yikes! This author note has taken up nearly a full page! I'd better get to the fic! But before I do, I'd just like to remind all of my reviewers and readers that one of the main reasons that I'm doing this is to try and put Xander in costumes that he's never been in before. That means characters from series that are either obscure or rarely used in fanfiction. Thanks for reading, and I hope that I've managed to keep you entertained!

Disclaimer: Yet again, all characters and series are not my property and I'm making no profit off of this piece of fiction; it is written merely for free entertainment purposes.

Story 7: From Hellgate to Hellmouth

Xander Harris could swear that he could feel the bottom of his jaw scraping the floor of Jonathan Levinson's basement as he stared in wide eyed disbelief. Shortly after his somewhat emasculating encounter with Larry earlier, Xander had come across Jonathan being relentlessly bullied by one of Larry's cronies. The male member of the Scooby gang may not have been a master of hand to hand combat, but he hated bullies, was feeling angry anyway, and had spent well over a year fighting things that were six times as strong as an average person. The jock went down with one punch, and the two social outcasts had gotten out of there before Snyder came by and started throwing expulsions around in retaliation for one of the troll's oh so precious football players being hurt. When they were safely away, Jonathan had begun thanking the other boy profusely, asking if there was any way that he could repay him. Xander had said that he was still looking for a Halloween costume as a joke, but Jonathan had taken him seriously and told Xander to meet him at his house after school.

Which led Xander to where he was now, in Jonathan's basement stunned speechless. Slowly turning to a proudly beaming Jonathan with awe in his eyes, Xander extended a shaking finger towards the object that his host had brought him here to see. "Jono... You... You made THAT?!"

Jonathan's smile was so sunny and bright that he could have dusted vampires with it. "Yep!"

"That" was a six foot tall suit of armor, looking like it had come straight out of the second crusade except for a few minor differences. Xander wasn't any sort of history buff, but he was pretty sure that medieval knights didn't have thick green plastic visors in their helmets to provide sight. Or electrical cables and tubes stretched between the joints of the armor. Or futuristic lines of glass and plastic crisscrossing the metal plates. They certainly didn't have the sort of high-tech guns that Jonathan had laid out on the floor next to the suit of armor alongside an elegant, battle-scarred, and massive two-handed bastard sword. Gently, Xander placed his hand against the golden cross with a green gem held in it's center, placed right over the heart of the suit of armor as Jonathan went on to explain further.

"I got the idea from watching a documentary about the Knights Templar right after a sci-fi marathon. It's basically a suit of futuristic Knights Templar armor. I made it intending to wear it to a sci-fi convention in LA, but I just don't have the build to really show this beauty off. But, you do. So, I'm letting you borrow it for Halloween."

"Wha?! Jono, but I'm... this is..."

"Hey, this is just me repaying you for standing up for me Xander! Besides, don't thank me yet. It's not complete, it needs special batteries from a costume shop to light up those glass and plastic bits and I'm out of money from making the rest of it. C'mon, Xander. You couldn't hope to get a cooler costume than this! You'll show up everybody else there!"

Nodding in stunned disbelief with a hint of growing giddiness, Xander reached out to grab the suit's helmet.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ethan waved at the teenager that had just exited his shop, grateful that he'd enchanted everything including batteries, not just the costumes he was selling. By enchanting a source of power, even if it was only a battery, the magic would truly permeate every facet of whatever that source of power was placed in once the spell went off. The chaos caused by those simple little batteries would surely be great! He just wondered what costume the lad had needed them for.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Jonas, member of the Templar, simply couldn't believe what he was seeing through his helmet's optics. Not the hordes of demons all around him, no that was normal. What surprised him was the sight of buildings. Standing, undamaged, pristine buildings. Jonas hadn't seen anything like them in his memory. There hadn't been more to the world than crumbling ruins since just before his third birthday.

The futuristic knight came from the nightmarish, post-apocalyptic time of 2038, in a time when humanity was reduced to a handful of survivors and demons roamed the streets freely in hunt for fresh souls and blood. As man began putting more and more faith in science, their knowledge of the mystical, arcane, and holy had waned. And with that waning light, the darkness had struck. A portal directly leading to the fiery realms of Hell itself, named by those who had seen it as the Hellgate, opened in the center of London decades ago and soon after the legions of Hell had poured forth into the mortal plane. It had been the end of the world, but it hadn't been the end of humanity.

The Templar, the secret society that had carefully carried the traditions and knowledge of the legendary Knights Templar into the modern age, had hatched a daring and utterly selfless plan to preserve the human race. While refugees were quickly situated underground to keep them safe from the Hellgate's opening, the Commander of the Templar and his army had assaulted the Hellgate directly. When the first minions of Hell came forth, the Templar had been there to meet them. Each Templar was an army in and of themselves, armed with both the best technology available to man and ancient relics from the order's past while their faith had fueled them in their righteous fight. In the end though it had been futile to stand against the limitless numbers of hellspawn; every last man and woman of the Templar army lay dead before the day was out and the demons were left free to ravage the surface world and lay ruin to the works of man. But the enormous sacrifice had bought the refugees time, time enough to make themselves well hidden in the world below the surface so that they might one day reclaim the world that was their birthright from the evil that had invaded it.

Jonas had gown up in darkness and filth, his whole world stone walls and rocky ceilings. Then he'd been initiated into the Templar as a young man, and when he first went to the surface he had seen that the grimy little hole he lived in was paradise by comparison. Unholy fires danced in malicious glee against the eternally darkened skies, never dwindling and never dying out. Ash rained down from the sky, all that remained of most of those who'd been on the surface when the Hellgate had opened. Everything was in ruins, with most buildings being razed right down to their foundations. And everywhere you looked, were demons, zombies, and other horrors that could break the minds of most men. But the Templars and their allies, the magic using Cabalists and the ex-military Hunters, were not like most men and women. Again and again, they left the safety of the Underground to journey to the surface, determined to establish a foothold of their own in the ruined city of London so that one day they could destroy the Hellgate itself and retake their planet.

This might not be the ruins of London, but Jonas could still feel the evil energy that was so close to that of the Hellgate and he could see dozens of demons. As a Templar, his course of action was clear. With the ringing of metal upon metal, Jonas unsheathed his massive sword, a relic from the thirteenth century which had belonged to a previous Grand Master of the Knights Templar from where it was sheathed upon his back. Visor and circuit panels glowing bright green in the darkness of night and ancient blade clenched firmly in both hands, Jonas slowly walked forward to do what he'd been doing all of his life.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

"Fools! No weapon forged ca-"

The Judge didn't get out a syllable more before a glowing ball of blue plasma disintegrated everything from his shoulders up. Cursing wildly, Angelus managed to duck out of the mall as the sound of a pulse rifle sounded again and again behind him. He could practically taste the dust of his minions as they were all methodically massacred by a warrior used to dealing with creatures twice as strong, fast, and vicious as them. Damn that White Knight Harris and his precious little toys of glowing death! If the Judge couldn't survive against him, then Angelus would have to use something better!

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander stared helplessly at the swirling gate of Alcaltha, the demonic portal opening ever wider and threatening to suck the whole world into itself. Smeared on his battle scarred blade was Angelus' blood, the dust of the former Scourge of Europe lying at his feet. Behind him, Buffy supported a battered Giles as she held back tears. At least Xander had taken the burden of killing what had once been Angel off of her shoulders, but it was too little too late. Templars were designed for frontal assaults, durability, and staying power. They weren't meant to be stealthy or to hunt down one single demonic entity that kept fleeing at their approach. And so Angelus had lived on, and had gained time enough to find a way to bring hell on Earth. Xander still had Jonas' memories of what the Hellgate's opening had done to his world, and Xander feared that the same was about to happen here.

Turning his helmeted head in the direction of Giles, the teenage Templar begged for the older man to offer any sort of solution. "Giles, is there any way to close the portal?"

Giles sadly shook his head, resigned to be a witness to the end of all things. "No, Xander. The gate requires the blood of the one who opened it and life to enter into the vortex in order to close. With Angelus destroyed, there's nothing we can do."

For a moment, Xander felt defeated, before he thought about Giles' words again. Wait, there was still a way. It would require sacrifice, but that was something that Templar were used to. Holding his bloodstained sword in one hand, the futuristic knight primed a timed energy grenade and gently lay it at the base of the demonic statue. Giles was confused at the actions of the boy who'd become the bane of demon kind and like a son to him. "Xander, destroying it won't work now. The gate needs to be closed first with..."

"Blood and life."

A chill went through the air, and Xander quickly removed his helmet so that he could take in a few more breaths of clean, cool air. He doubted there was any where he was going, but he couldn't allow what had happened to Jonas' world to happen to his. Eyes closed, he took two steps forward so that he was right in front of the open energy gate before Buffy's panicked voice stopped him. "XANDER! What are you doing?!"

Turning back to give a sad smile to the people that had become the family he'd always wanted, Xander placed the helmet back upon his head and held his bloodied sword aloft in a salute. "For the living."

Then before the horrified eyes of his mentor and his friend, he stepped back and disappeared within the portal leading to hell. Seconds after the gate closed, the grenade that he'd left behind detonated, causing the demonic statue to explode into a million shards.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The funeral of Xander Harris was a small, private affair held only between those who really knew him. Not even the boy's biological parents had attended, although with both Giles and Mrs. Summers there everybody agreed that Xander's true parents had indeed been in attendance. It was a closed casket service as well, since they didn't have a body. His headstone was beautiful, paid for by the Watcher's Council at Giles' insistence. A statue of an armored knight bearing the symbol of the Knights Templar and knelt in prayer topped his grave marker, and inscribed upon it were the words that Xander had inspired in all of his friends and comrades. "Remember the Dead, but Fight for the Living."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith was patrolling alone tonight. The other Scoobies were at the cemetery, paying their monthly group visit to Xander's grave. The Boston born Slayer had never had the chance to meet this Xander Harris that Buffy and the other Scoobies constantly talked about, but from the stories they told he'd been friendship, determination, and selflessness personified. It was a shame that she hadn't met him, he sounded like a genuinely decent guy and his friends all seemed to miss him terribly. Faith idly wondered if anybody would be that sad when she finally bit the big one.

She was suddenly wrenched from her thoughts when a glowing portal opened up before her. Staggering out into the street was a figure clad in grimy, torn, scratched, shredded, and scorched armor that seemed to be barely holding itself together. A broken sword was clutched tightly in his right hand, and what looked like the remains of a helmet was held limply in his left. But it was the figure's face that Faith couldn't help but stare at as the portal blinked to a close behind him. It was scarred in several places and looked ten years older than the photos that she'd been shown of him, but Faith knew without a doubt that this was the face of Xander Harris, The White Templar.

Losing his grip on his helmet and sword, Xander let the items fall clattering to the ground as he slumped forward. Moving on instinct, Faith stepped up to him and barely managed to help keep him standing. Shit! That armor had to weigh at least two hundred pounds! As for Xander's part, he was staring right back at Faith. He couldn't believe it, but it looked like he was home. Not that it had been easy going fighting his way out of Hell, even for a Templar. His ammo had run out after the first year. The power cells of his suit had lasted another four years or so before dying out; fortunately by that time he'd grown strong enough from near constant battle and used enough to the armors weight that he could move in it without the use of the motors and servos in it. His sword had been broken five years after that, during a battle that he'd been fighting just fifteen minutes ago. In all, Xander estimated that he'd spent at least ten years in Hell, fighting every day to survive and eventually leave that unholy place that he didn't belong in. And now, finally, he was home.

Chuckling softly, Xander reached up and gently cupped a startled Faith's cheek with one gauntlet clad hand. "I... know that I... must be out of Hell... 'cause I'm looking at an angel." With that, Xander slumped into unconsciousness, and Faith had to struggle to keep him from falling down, shock etched into her face. Wait until the Scoobies saw the surprise she had for them!

End Story 7: From Hellgate to Hellmouth

Notes: Once again, I apologize for using a character that couldn't have existed at the time of the Halloween episode, but I couldn't resist. Not only are the Templars from the upcoming Hellgate: London game just too bloody cool but I also wanted to be the first one to use them in a Buffy crossover. If you haven't heard about the game, go look it up. And if you think that the last part was cheap, I just didn't want to leave Xander in Hell and deal with reader backlash.

To see what Xander's armor looks like, go to the Hellgate: London action video on youtube at To get a better idea of the back story of Hellgate: London that I mentioned in the story go to the Hellgate: London intro video on youtube at Don't watch them if you don't like violence, but if that's the case what are you doing reading this fic? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed it. 'Til the next one.

Character: Templar from the Hellgate: London videogame (coming out October 31, 2007)

Next story: And You Thought the Hyena Was Bad...


	8. Chapter 8

**31 Days of Halloween**

Author's notes: I have over fifty reviews. I've NEVER gotten more than fifty reviews for a fic before. **Sniff** You like me, you really, really like me! Once again, I want to address a couple of reviewers directly. Keep the reviews and suggestions coming!

Dargos: You just want me to put poor Xander into interesting sexual situations, don't you? If one of my other ideas falls through, I'll put your suggestion into serious consideration.

Harry2: It's seems as though I exist to disappoint you once again. No, I'm sorry it's not Logan.

Disclaimer: Don't own BtVS or any other series.

Story 8: And You Thought the Hyena Was Bad...

Xander almost felt like crying as he looked around the emptied costume store. Damn it! He knew that he should have come earlier with the girls! But no, he'd managed to offend the troll somehow and had gotten detention, which ironically had kept him from going to get a costume so that he didn't get more detention! It was official, Murphy's Law was out to get him. All that was left were crappy apron and plastic mask costumes designed for little kids. Seriously, dinosaurs? Did he look like he was still five.

Swallowing his pride, Xander took one of the overpriced kid's costumes off of the shelf. Humiliation tonight was better than detention tomorrow, the day after that, the day after that, and so on. Besides, the movie had been pretty awesome. How bad could it be?

The poor teen didn't even realize that he had thought the words certain to bring the full force of both Fate's and Murphy's combined power down upon his head.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Black-Stripe cocked it's head inquisitively as it's eyes pierced through the night. Strange not-tree, not rock things were all around it. They looked sort of like caves, but not. Odd scents and smells also clouded the air, making it difficult to focus on one single scent trail. The ground under it's feet was very firm, but felt more like sand or gravel than solid rock. It had never seen a line of yellow quite that bright or straight in the middle of a field of stone either. All around it were even stranger not-predator, not-prey animals the sorts of which Black-Stripe had never seen before.

Hissing as it decided that it didn't like this place, Black-Stripe dashed off in a flash of sinewy muscle, pebbled leathery skin, and gleaming claws. It needed to find the pack. But first, Black-Stripe was hungry. It needed to find some weak, easy prey for itself.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ethan smirked as he heard the click of the door being opened and the soft pad of feet. How very predictable of dear old Ripper. It sounded like Ethan's old running mate had found him out and come to pay a call. Though it was unusual that Giles was being so quiet. The chaos worshiper had fully expected the Watcher to have started spouting some self-righteous clap trap by now. Ah well, he'd play the other man's game for now.

Turning as he heard the hanging beads separating the front of the store from the back room part behind him, Ethan smirked as he addressed what he believed was his former friend. "Well, well Ripper, come to pay your old mate a vis-" The mage's words trailed off as his mouth dropped wide open, his eyes bulged from their sockets, and a stream of liquid yellow trickled down his pants leg. The intelligent, slit-pupil yellow eyes regarding him certainly did not belong to Giles or anything human. Neither did the three slender fingers tipped with gleaming black claws, the narrow reptilian snout filled with dozens of serrated teeth, or the sickle-like killing claws placed on the inside of the padded feet. Ethan Rayne was face to face with one of the nightmares that haunted the human psyche, a creature that had thankfully been extinct long before man had crawled out of the oceans on his belly according to conventional science. Only it wasn't extinct anymore, and Ethan had a sinking feeling that he was the cause of that fact. Oh the irony.

Black-Stripe hissed and crouched down, eyes locked onto the prey it had found. With a screech, it sprung into the air and bore the fleshy pink prey animal down to the ground. Blood flew and splattered against the floor and walls as Ethan screamed for all he was worth before his voice faded out into wet gurgles and then finally cut off. As Black-Stripe's tail lashed around in a frenzy as it fed, the heavily muscled appendage knocked into a small bust and sent it crashing down to the ground. In an instant, the spell that had transformed most of Sunnydale was ended, but not everything was back to normal.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Giles was resting his head on his desk, an empty tumbler of scotch in his hand. Last night had been a nightmare. Untold chaos and property damage. He'd found Ethan's eviscerated and partially eaten remains laying in a pool of the man's own blood, a death mask of pain and terror frozen on his face. And above all else, Xander was still missing. All in all, Giles couldn't think how this could get any worse.

Suddenly, he was yanked from his depressing thoughts by the sharp sound of tapping. The tapping sound was coming from right behind his office door. After a few seconds, Giles identified it as somewhat crude Morse code. It took a few more seconds for him to recall what he knew of Morse code and translate it sounds into words.

Tap, tap-tap, tappity, tap. [Giles, are you there?

Reaching for the stake he kept as a paperweight, Giles kept his eyes on the door as he responded to the unusual attempt at communication. "Who's there?"

Tap tap tap tap, tappy tip tap, tapt tapt. [G-man, it's Xander. Halloween had some... changes.

Where once Giles felt trepidation, he now felt relief. Xander was alright. Any lingering changes from Halloween they could deal with. The important thing was that his surrogate son was safe. "Xander! Thank God you're alright! Well, come in lad!"

Tap tappy tap tap tappity tap tap tap, tap tak tapt tap-tap tap. [Alright is a... relative term G-man. Just promise that you're not going to go wiggy on me when you see me.

Confusion replaced the Watcher's elation as the doorknob turned and the door slowly swung open. "Why would I be surprised from seeing you Xan... GOOD LORD!"

Tap tap, tap tap tap. [I thought I asked you not to freak out!

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Angelus smirked from his place beside the Judge. Pickings had been slim for the vamps and demons since Halloween, but now that would all change. With the Judge burning down the "plague of humanity", they were going to be back on top again. And there was nothing that Buffy or her freakshow pet Harris could do about it. He was broken out of his internal gloating by the chilling sound of a low growl coming from right above him, and he looked up with fear in his eyes.

Xander's current situation reminded him of the hyena incident last year. The only difference was that instead of having the spirit of an animal trapped inside of his human body, it was his human spirit trapped within an animal body. An animal body that was taller than a man, faster than Olympic sprinters, stronger than Arnold Schwarzenegger on steroids, with better senses and eyesight than a bloodhound, and with more equipped razor sharp blades than a ginzu knife set. The Judge might be immune to any weapon forged by man, but it wasn't immune to a living weapon born of nature itself and forged by millions of years of evolution. Angelus' last act on the mortal plane was cursing the ghost of Ethan Rayne for ever selling Xander Harris a velociraptor costume.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander stared unblinkingly at his prey, neck muscles tensing. Fanged mouth snapping forward, the man turned raptor snatched his helpless victim up into his crushing jaws and bit down hard. Yellow crumbs flew from his muzzle and the white innards gushed into his gullet. The formerly human member of the Scooby Gang nearly purred in contentment with his sweet treat. No matter what form he was in, nothing beat Twinkies.

Giggling at her her favorite hunting partner's antics, Faith rubbed his leathery scalp, earning further coos and sounds of approval. The others had told her all about what had happened to Xander, but she'd never known him as a human being, just as an extinct animal with the mind of a man. Because Xander no longer had some of the usual motivations and urges towards her that normal boys had, it was easy to trust that he wanted her as a friend and wasn't just trying to get into her pants. The conversations and ability to hang out was somewhat limited when your best friend was a seven foot tall dinosaur, but he was the best patrol buddy that she could ask for.

Her point was proven as Xander's head jerked up and nostrils flared. Extending one leg so that it was up against one of the tombstones in the cemetery they were currently patrolling, Xander tapped out a sentence in Morse code using his wicked killing claw. Tap tap tap tappy tap tap tapitty tapitty tap tap tap tap tak tok tap tap. [I smell the scent of dust and death two hundred yards ahead... Strong scent... Maybe as many as fifteen vamps.

Smirking wildly, Faith drew a stake into each hand. Normally taking on fifteen vamps at once was a major risk, but with most of the blood suckers running futilely from Xander's terrifying appearance they were easy pickings as the Slayer and the raptor ran them down. The magically created dinosaur's scythe-like claws were damn effective at removing vampires' heads from their shoulders. Man did she ever love hunting with Xander! Silently, the two predators raced into the night, stalking their supernatural prey.

End Story 8: And You Thought the Hyena Was Bad...

Notes: There you go, Majin Gojira. Hope you like it, and that I did a good job with the concept.

Character: Raptor from the Jurassic Park books and movies (early 1990's)

Next story: X


	9. Chapter 9

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Final exams and final projects are this week. In spite of that however, I shall endeavor to keep bringing you these oneshots daily. I'm especially encouraged by the responses that I got for the last story. And now for reviewer responses.

Weaver: I've had D planned from the very beginning.

Harry2: You're correct that this chapter will be a brief return to anime, but I can assure you that there will be an X-men crossover although it won't necessarily be the character that you're hoping for.

Snowecat: You raise a good point, but I just liked the idea of the Morse code system. I thought of it when I remembered the Raptors' claws clicking on the tiled floors in the first movie; that was scary cool in my opinion. Maybe if I revisit this idea, I'll add Willow's magical communication spell.

Firehedgehog: No. You'll just have to read and find out what it is I guess.

And for all of my reviewers that have given me suggestions, thank you. I did already have a list already made, but some of your suggestions were just so much better than what I had come up with that I just had to use them. If I don't use your suggestion it doesn't necessarily mean that I don't like it either, it's just that with this project I can only do a limited number of costumes and some of the ideas that you've suggested have already been done. Nonetheless, thank you for the suggestions you have given and please keep giving me more, I might just wind up using them. Now on to the fic!

Disclaimer: Roses are red, Violets are blue, I no own, So you no sue.

Story 9: X

Xander was frustrated and angry. It was no secret that the teenage boy had a massive crush on one Buffy Summers, and had possessed said crush since the moment that he first laid eyes on her. It was also no secret that the founding member of the by now infamous Scooby Gang loathed, despised, and just generally hated vampires. So his frustration with Buffy's steadfast infatuation with Angel, a souled vampire of all things, was perfectly understandable. Especially as he was forced to watch her fawn over a dress just like the ones ladies would have worn in Angel's time, knowing that her sole thought was to impressing the vampire.

A growl in his throat, Xander stalked the isles until he found it. Buffy wanted medieval? Fine, he'd give her medieval! She wanted tall, dark, and mysterious? He could do that as well! Not even noticing the price tag, Xander grabbed the dark leather armor, black cloak, wide brimmed hat, and the long sword from where they were displayed. Bundling the items up in his arms, he took them over to the shopkeeper prepared to haggle out a reasonable price.

He couldn't have realized the hell that he'd just doomed himself to.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Instantly, D's slender hand shot up to the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. There was evil and darkness here. More than he'd encountered in one place in over one thousand years of existence. He did not know how he had come to be in this place. Moments ago, he'd been riding away from where he'd watched over the proceedings of Leila's funeral. The former female vampire hunter, whom he'd met decades ago, had once confided to him that she feared that when she died nobody would care enough to place flowers on her grave. D had her promised that he would do so. He was glad that her fears were proven wrong, as her family, friends, and most of her neighbors had all been present at her funeral and there had been flowers aplenty placed upon her grave. Even as he was glad for his one time comrade, he couldn't help but be envious and resigned as he knew that he would never receive the same treatment as her should he meet his end.

The architecture was odd, much like it was before the fall of mankind and the rise of the Nobles, the vampire elite. D knew more about vampires than anyone else alive. He had hunted them for his entire life. A life that was particularly long and difficult to snuff out. For hunting vampires wasn't the only reason why D knew so much about them; he knew about them because their blood flowed through his veins. He was a half-vampire, the result of a forbidden union between a human woman and a vampire Noble, an abomination known as a dhampir or sometimes called a dunpeal. It was from this cursed word that he took his name, D, for he could never be anything more than a hated dhampir no matter how many vampires he hunted or how many human lives he saved.

Dhampirs were destined from birth to know nothing but hate and loneliness. They were neither human nor vampire, and were scorned by both worlds. They had no home, no real family, no friends, and no future. All that they could do was exist forever unaging until the day that they were finally killed. Most of them didn't make it past childhood or the age of fifty before being murdered either by fearful humans or disgusted vampires. But D was different, he was stronger and more powerful than any dhampir that had ever existed and more powerful than even some vampires. It wasn't just any vampiric blood that flowed through his body it was that of the most feared and powerful of all vampires. D was the half-breed son of the vampire king Count Dracula, revered as a god by many of his kind. But his position as the son of true vampire royalty had not granted him any protection from the scorn and hatred he received from both species, and he'd grown to hate both his father and his mother for spawning him. It was a result of the hate that he held not only for his parents but for himself as well that had led him to become the most feared and renowned vampire hunter ever.

His pale, hauntingly beautiful features held in an emotionless mask, D stalked the streets of this unusual place. There were vampires close by; he could sense them. Even if there wasn't any bounty on their heads he would destroy them anyway. His work would never be completed, he could never rest until they were all gone.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Angelus shivered as he took his attention off of the Scoobies, eyes darting around frantically as he searched for the group's missing member. In front of him was the Judge, staring down Buffy and her group and mocking their pitiful efforts to harm him. Behind him were just five minions; Spike and Drusilla had both gotten careless and were both dust now. Sunnydale was practically a ghost town as far as vampires and demons were concerned. The the smart ones had left town as quickly as they could, and the majority of those who'd remained were long dead. The only ones left were those that didn't hurt humans, the extremely cunning ones, and the lucky ones. Angelus honestly didn't know anymore just which of those latter two categories he belonged to. Things had not been going well for anyone who was undead ever since Halloween.

The ring of metal against stone was his only warning as he turned to look behind him, catching only the flash of silver metal and the fluttering of a long black cape before he was neatly cut in two from groin to chops. The dust of his five minions were already littering the floor even as Angelus' ashes settled to the ground. Thus was the inglorious end of the Scourge of Europe. Xander couldn't even take satisfaction in his victory. Angelus, the Master, and all of their ilk were mere trash compared to the vampires of D's world. The dhampir's hate and determination to eliminate the vampire species had so closely matched Xander's that the two personalities had meshed well, and now aside from his friends killing vampires and demons was the only thing that mattered to Xander Harris. Once the people he loved finally died, there would only be the hunt left for him. Until that time he would treasure and closely guard every moment he had with them, and he wouldn't let some overgrown Smurf try to take them away from him.

Fangs extended and hand outstretched, Xander snarled in primal rage as he loosened the careful restraints he normally kept on the power he'd inherited from D. An orb of purest black energy formed around him and burst forth, enveloping the Judge in it's depths. Within this void of Xander's creation, the Judge had nothing. No powers, no resistance to damage, and no hope for survival. When the sphere of darkness dissipated just seconds after it had formed, there was nothing left of the demon and the dhampir hunter stood alone.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander stared bleakly at the cold stone, the name of the last living member of the only true family that he'd ever had etched into the uncaring stone, indifferent to his grief. Placing a pale and refined hand up against the stone which was as cold as his skin, the man who had looked to be in his mid-twenties for the past ninety years let his fingers trace the engraving. She'd held on as long as she possibly could have for him, understanding so well what it was like being alone and not wanting that for him. But like all things mortal, her time had eventually come. His eyes closed as he breathlessly whispered her name, memories floating through his mind. "Faith."

"_C'mon X! I want you and you want me! There's a perfectly good bed right there and I'm grateful and willing, so what's holding you back?"_

It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to force his fangs back as she stood naked and willing before him, desire nearly overpowering his senses as the urge to take her in the only way those with vampiric blood could tried to overwhelm him with it's intensity. But Xander had an iron will even before being possessed by D, and their similarly strong wills had greatly complimented each other. Still, turning and walking out of that hotel room as Faith looked at him with disappointment and longing was the hardest thing that he'd ever done in his terribly long life.

"_Forgive me, Faith. Maybe one day you'll understand."_

Eventually, she had grown to understand.

"_Damn X, you're the sexiest guy I've ever seen! You have dozens of smokin' hot babes jumpin' at the chance to do you, including me! So why don't you ever accept their offers?! Why won't you fuck my brains out like I've asked you to time and again?!"_

"_Because..."_

"_Because why?"_

"_Because... I'm a dhampir, I don't get to have a life, not like you do. If I took you... I'd hurt you... The instincts would be too strong to possibly resist during sex. Believe me, I want to. I'm not a passionless prude like D was at times. I still hang out with the gang, have fun, and generally do everything I can to enjoy living, but I can't have everything that I want. As much as I want you Faith, I'd hurt you in the process and I would sooner stake myself out in the desert sun than risk that."_

Sun exposure was a terribly slow way for a dhampir to die. They didn't burn when exposed to sunlight like full vampires did, but they suffered from heat stroke easily. If they didn't stay out of the sun at least once every few days, then they would eventually be stricken by weakness and inevitably die. In the end, Xander and Faith had developed an extremely close knit friendship. She'd married and had kids, but there was still something that was held only between the two of them that nobody else could touch or understand.

And now, at the age of one hundred and five years old Faith had finally joined the other Scoobies in the eternal rest that Xander could only dream about. Kneeling before the headstone, Xander placed a single white lily down upon the ground and briefly caressed the rocky surface with his lips. He had no intention of ever returning to this place until every trace of his friends existence was wiped away by the waves of time. They'd been his life, his heart, and his family; with them gone there was nothing for him but his single purpose. To hunt down the vampires and destroy them to the very last. And if he should waver, then another would hunt him. It was as simple as that.

Standing, he turned and slipped into the shade of a nearby tree. He should leave before Faith's grandchildren showed up. Walking away from all that remained of his former life, Xander hopped onto his motorcycle, doing his best to keep the dark thoughts away and refusing to cry.

It was in this silence that a gravelly, annoying voice spoke up from his left hand. "Hey! Cheer up boss! You've still got me!"

Groaning, Xander made a tight fist in order to silence the parasitic identity known as Left Hand that resided within his palm. Of all the things that D had left him, did that really have to be one of them?

End Story 9: X

Author's notes: Vampire Hunter D is one of my favorites, and I just had to use him. Although in researching for this fic I found that it was originally a series of novels.

Character: D from the Vampire Hunter D animated movies (1985 and 2000)

Next story: A REAL Spartan in Sunnydale


	10. Chapter 10

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Guh, tired. Stupid skeleton shift job, stupid early day at school. Meh, want bed. Sleep. Sleep good. Gah! Wait, no sleep! Fanfic!

stickzx: I have been trying to inject some more humor and romance, but action/drama is what I write the best and so I have a tendency to fall back on it.

snowecat: I think that I will be using some of your suggestions, my muse likes one of the ideas you mentioned.

Harry2: You think this is going to be a Spartacus crossover? Do I just live to prove you wrong or something? Guess you're in for another disappointment mate. Hang in there, the X-men crossover will come eventually.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing!

Story 10: A REAL Spartan in Sunnydale

Xander wanted to sob; he really did as he approached the costume shop owner. Why did he have to bet with Willow that he could go for a week without Twinkies? The redhead's victory had pretty much been assured. Moreover, why did Buffy have to interject at the last moment and tell him what to do to pay off the bet? Willow would never have asked him to do this! Nevertheless, a wager was a wager, and Xander liked to pay off his debts. Even if doing so completely stripped him of almost all dignity and pride.

Ethan curiously observed the pouting boy approach him at the counter. He wondered why it was that the lad seemed so depressed. "What can I do for you, lad?"

The male Scooby took in a deep breath, bowing his head as he imparted the reason for his imminent shame to the storeowner in the hopes that the man could help him. "I lost a bet with a couple of friends. A couple of FEMALE friends. And they've decided that as their winnings, they get to choose how I dress for Halloween. Can you imagine the horror?"

Wincing in rare sympathy, Ethan felt compelled to place a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. He might be a chaos-causing son of a bitch, but he would never want a fate like that to befall a fellow man. Male solidarity and all that; if they didn't stand together then the women would have them all whipped and wrapped around their pinkie fingers before a month passed! Maybe he should make sure that the boy got a good costume, just so he didn't suffer too much. "You have my genuine sympathies, young man. What do you have to wear?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as Xander contemplated the evil that was women and their sick schemes to get you prancing around half-naked. "Do you… do you have any costumes with… with male thongs or loincloths that won't totally embarrass or emasculate me? Please?"

Ethan couldn't help but to give another little wince as he felt the boy's pain and despair. By chaos, this boy's lady friends must be pure evil! He wasn't sure whether he'd want to meet them if they were the sort to put a friend through an ordeal like this. "Come on into the back, my boy. I think that I can get you something that will not only salvage but also bolster your male pride while keeping to the arrangements of your wager. Tell me are you familiar with the Battle of Thermopylae?"

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Stelios blinked in wonder and confusion. The last thing he remembered was being on the ground, dying next to his king as the Persian arrows rained down upon the beaten Spartans. He knew he was dead. Was this strange place Elysium, the paradise where the good and heroic went after they met their end?

Suddenly a horde of strange creatures rushed towards him, claws outstretched and jaws slavering. The young warrior grinned joyfully within the confines of his helmet, and adjusted his grip on his spear as he brought his large bronze shield up to meet the charge. Who cared if these were the Elysian Fields or not? There was a fight to be had! That was paradise enough to a Spartan.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Ethan gulped carefully, doing his best to avoid cutting his own throat on the blade pressed up to it. Stelios' face looked like a vision of death and utter devastation set within his polished helmet, eyes flashing in fury and mouth set in a grim line. The Englishman idly noticed that at least he'd done one thing right tonight. The boy looked good in his barely clothed costume. Now if only the spirit of that said bloody costume would just be kind enough to put the sharp and pointy object away before somebody got hurt, namely Ethan, then the man could be a lot prouder of his work.

Stelios' tone was as rocky as the shores of Greece, his voice promising that if he didn't like what he heard then an eternity spent in Tartarus would be a relief after what the young Spartan would do. "Now let me get this straight, conjurer. You pulled my spirit out of the glory of Elysium and shoved it into the body of this boy here? I've had to fight my way foot by foot through this gods forsaken place, just because you were bored and wanted to play a prank? Is that what I'm hearing you say?"

The chaos mage nodded glumly, certain that he was about to become a head shorter. So his surprise when Stelios grinned widely and took the blade away from his neck was understandable as was his relief. The man's surprise only increased when the Spartan laughed loudly and embraced him, thumping the other man soundly on the back. "Thank you! One last fight before I grow rusty and bored in the never-ending peacefulness of paradise! Thank you magician! You have really made my day!"

Letting the bewildered man go, Stelios held up a single finger, a sly grin on his face and a mischievous sparkle seen in his eyes even through the narrow slit of the helmet. "But, the youngster who's been so good as to host my spirit should also get something out of this, wouldn't you agree?"

Just happy to still be alive, Ethan nodded in enthusiastic agreement, causing Stelios' already broad grin to widen even further. "Good! I do enjoy a man who can listen to reason and is willing to respond to the silent threat of violence. Now I should think that as you've done a favor for me, and I've done a favor for you in letting you live, that you should owe the boy a favor. Yes?" Again, there was total agreement. "Splendid! Now then, how do we go about breaking the spell for now?"

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Lenny was a young vampire, only having been turned nine years ago. He was also a newcomer to Sunnydale and didn't know about all of the local hunters. Therefore, he can be forgiven for not wetting himself in fear when a teenage boy approached him whistling jauntily, a large round disc wrapped in cloth strapped to his back and a similarly wrapped pole slung across his shoulders. Although admittedly, the fact that the pair of native Sunnydale vampires that were with him went even paler than they were already and shouted "oh crap it's Harris" before running off screaming like young children should have clued him in that this was not a human being to mess with. Unfortunately for poor Lenny, he didn't think about that. All he was thinking about was that there was a perfectly good meal right there in front of him.

The vampire hissed in hunger and promptly got into his "game face". The teen just smiled, taking the covered circle off of his back and holding it with one hand and getting a firm grip on the pole-like object with the other. Snarling, Lenny lunged forward only to get a face full of hard metal as the young man brought up the covered disc, now identified as a shield, up to meet the vampire's charge. With a grunt of effort, the shield pushed out at Lenny and despite the fact that he should be at least three times as strong as any human, he was sent sprawling. The teenager stood over the downed vampire, face twisted in fierce joy as he kept the demonically possessed corpse pinned to the ground with one booted heel pressed down on Lenny's shoulder while he scraped the end of the wrapped pole across the asphalt. Lenny became panicked as he saw the cloth wrappings part enough to show the tip of a sharpened wooden point, and his struggles to get free increased. But it was to no avail as the booted foot was strong and firm in keeping him pinned, and in a matter of seconds, the wooden spear tip found his heart with unerring accuracy.

Xander smiled widely and began laughing in delight as he slung the wooden spear that he had carved himself back over his shoulder, walking off as the dust that was mere moments before a vampire settled to the ground. Gods, it was just so fun staking fang faces! Maybe if he got lucky, he would come across a real challenge! Since Halloween, he hadn't happened across any vamps that could hope to offer him what Stelios' would have called "A Beautiful Death". Not that Xander had a death wish; oh, no he wasn't that much of a Spartan! It was just getting so boring fighting fledglings!

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"So, that's the situation in a nutshell, the Judge has been reassembled and everything says that no weapon forged by man can kill him... Xander, you're looking very thoughtful over there. Do you have any ideas?"

Xander turned his attention away from the new wooden spearhead he was carving and gave Giles one of his cheerful, slightly goofy smiles that had just a hint of wicked mischievousness behind it. "Oh, I was just thinking of the 'magics' that the Persian sorcerers used against Stelios and the rest of the three hundred at the Hot Gates. Those weren't exactly 'forged by man', you know. Why don't we just blow him up?"

"That's... actually a very good plan Xander, but how do you intend to procure an explosive armament or enough placed charges to destroy the Judge?"

The grin was big and cheerful, which was more than enough to cause Giles concern as the younger man never showed much emotion unless he was plotting something bound to cause chaos. "Don't worry about it Giles, trust me."

The Watcher groaned and removed his glasses to begin polishing them furiously. "I was afraid that you'd say something along those lines. God help us all."

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"THIS IS DORK BOY'S MASTER PLAN?! ATTACKING THE FREAKIN' UNITED STATES ARMY HEAD ON?!" Cordelia currently wasn't very impressed with Xander's foresight and advanced planning as another soldier went flying from the furious melee that Xander was presently entangled in. The soldier groaned for a brief moment as he hit the ground hard, before slipping into the sweet embrace of Morpheus. Despite understanding Xander's plan, Willow couldn't help but to agree with Cordelia, surely a sign of the End Times if there ever was one. The plan was so stupidly simple that it was brilliant; Xander would beat the shit out of the entire garrison of the Sunnydale armory while she and Cordelia used the distraction to sneak inside and steal a rocket launcher or something. Now the troops stationed at the Sunnydale armory were as far from frontline quality as soldiers are capable of getting, and the base was currently being manned by a skeleton staff of only sixty men as the majority of the base's personnel including the officers were currently off on leave to LA. However it was still foolish to believe that one man could stand against that many and hope to win; unless of course that man had the skills and memories of a Spartan warrior who had stood by the side of Leonidas himself as they faced an army of nearly a million Persians.

To say that the troops of the Sunnydale armory were grossly outclassed would be like saying that the sun was hot or that winter is cold. Already more than two dozen of them were lying knocked out on the ground, and Xander was barely breathing hard by this point as he sent opponent after opponent into unconsciousness with the haft of his blunted practice spear and heavy bronze shield. None of the soldiers stood a chance against him in close combat, and with so many of them already engaged in hand to hand with Xander their comrades couldn't fire for risk of hitting their own which forced them to join in on the brawl. All the while, Xander was laughing from within the concealing depths of his bronze helmet. He was actually enjoying this!

Cordelia shook her head in exasperation as she and Willow walked right past the fight into the base. "That Harris is a damn lunatic... Although I'll admit that he is one burning hot lunatic. I mean those pecs, that six pack, and his biceps? Rawr." Again, Willow couldn't help but agree with her, Xander had turned into a drop dead gorgeous hottie ever since he'd gotten a little Spartan muscle boost. Willow and Cordelia agreeing twice in the same night; the apocalypse really was here.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith gasped, sweat covering her body. She'd known Xander was fit since she'd seen him fight, but damn! Five times! FIVE TIMES! She'd never been with anyone who could last more than two or three times! And Xander and her had done it five times over the last three and a half hours with very little time spent resting between mind-blowing fucks. Beside her, equally sweaty and breathing hard, Xander turned to her and grinned. "You would have made a fine spartan woman, Faith... Another round?"

The Slayer's eyes threatened to pop out of her sockets. She'd been fucked longer and harder than she'd ever been before, and he was willing to go again?! Faith could go all night because she was a Slayer, but damn! That Spartan stamina was really something! Grabbing onto Xander's shoulders she brought his face right up to hers and glared. "You listen to me Boy Toy! I'm keeping you! You got that?! And if you try to run, I'm hunting you down and dragging you right back to my bed so I can fuck your brains out until you forget about ever thinking of leaving me! Now get back on top of me and get to work soldier!"

Xander's eyes twinkled in merriment. Oh yes, Faith would have made a fine Spartan woman. "As you command, my lady."

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"The mayor will ascend, we can't stop it at this point. Our only hope is to have an army, but where will we get one?"

"I have an idea, Giles. Round up some recruits, and I'll make a call. There's a certain somebody we both know who owes me a favor from Halloween."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

As the mayor's demonic form chased Buffy and Faith into the school where Giles had a ton of explosives ready and waiting for him, hordes of vampires swarmed onto the school grounds expecting to find a bunch of helpless teenagers just waiting to be fed upon. However, as they approached, half of the graduates yanked off their graduation robes to show that they were wearing red cloaks, leather loincloths with the addition of leather bindings across the chest for the girls, and bronze helmets. As one, they reached underneath their seats and withdrew shield and spear before getting into the famed flying wedge formation. And at the head of the wedge was a grinning Xander Harris, inwardly thanking Ethan Rayne for coming through with so many Spartan costumes on such short notice. Craning his head back, Xander called to his troops. "SPARTANS! PREPARE FOR GLORY!"

The poor vampires never stood a chance.

End Story 10: A REAL Spartan in Sunnydale

Notes: This was partially done in protest against the swarm of Master Chief YAHFs out there, it's just an overdone concept and i wanted to show what a REAL Spartan could possibly accomplish. I'm rushing this out before leaving for a social function, so I'm hoping that the quality hasn't suffered because of that. Hope you all enjoyed.

Character: Stelios from the movie 300 (2006)

Next story: The Xanderness


	11. Chapter 11

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Really don't have much to say at the moment, glad that you've been enjoying my work and I hope that you keep on enjoying my work. I got a lot of acclaim for the last story, A REAL Spartan in Sunnydale, and considering that I did have more plot to the story that I'd thought up but simply didn't add due to time constraints I probably will do more with it in the future. Rock on.

Disclaimer: I'm making no profit off of this work, nor do I own any characters.

Story 11: The Xanderness

Xander grimaced as he held up the old fatigues that he'd been keeping in the back of his closet. He couldn't have possibly imagined that moths would have gotten at them. What now? His idea for a cheap costume had just been eaten. How could he make another decent costume without dipping into his road trip fund? Slightly desperate, he began shifting through the other contents of his closet until he paused with a new discovery.

It was a long black trench coat, black slacks, and black shirt. Frankly, it looked like something that Dead Boy would wear. Either that, or some sort of contract killer. Thinking of that, didn't he glance through a comic book once with a hitman as the main character? He didn't remember an awful lot since he'd just skimmed the first few pages in brief interest, but he remembered that the guy's clothes looked sort of like the ones he'd just found. He'd just need a pair of toy handguns from that new costume shop, and he'd have a costume. Unable to think of anything else to do on short notice, Xander pulled the clothing off of the hangar.

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"Fuck."

That was the first word out of Jackie Estacado's mouth as he glared at the chaos around himself. Monsters and other things were running all around destroying the neighborhood and terrorizing people... although they all gave Jackie a wide berth. The twenty-something man didn't even notice the ones that scurried away from him, focused more on his surroundings. This looked like a nice neighborhood. He could bet that the people who lived here were good, innocent. Words that could never apply to Jackie himself of course.

Jackie was a contract killer for the Franchetti Crime Family. Frankie Franchetti had pulled him out of the orphanage that he grew up in at a young age and groomed him to become the mob's personal hitman. He'd grown up quickly and living in the fast lane; he was violent to the extreme and the first of many sexual encounters was when he was fourteen and lost his virginity to a female cop in an interrogation room. Jackie was not a nice man, but he had morals however twisted they might be. He'd been surrounded by the mob his whole life and grown up learning the old school ways of doing business, the ways of mob honor. You protected your own. You had strict rules about drugs, not allowing any of that crap on your turf. And above all, you did good for your neighborhood and tried to keep the peace; after all how were you supposed to do business if your potential customers were strung out on drugs or living in a total hellhole?

Putting the last two rules of his honor code into effect, Jackie drew his guns and advanced upon the things running amuck. The monsters growled and snapped at him until a dark, evil looking suit of body armor formed from the surrounding darkness around Jackie's body. Wicked, fanged tentacles formed around him and his eyes took on a sinister glow. The Darkness, the primal force of chaos and creation that inhabited Jackie's body, was out and ready to play. A few well placed shots to the nearby street lamps plunged the street into absolute darkness, increasing the Darkness' powers and removing it's one weakness, light. The only thing that could be seen was Jackie's glowing eyes. Then the screams started.

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Xander stumbled into the bathroom the morning after Halloween, bits and pieces of last night and memories of Jackie's life flashing through his mind. He vaguely remembered Jackie torturing Ethan Rayne for information on how to end the spell before CONSUMING the man. The most disturbing thing was that Xander was having trouble bringing himself to care. When provoked or those he loved were threatened, it awakened a terrible, dark rage and ruthlessness within Xander's psyche. In the teen's opinion, Ethan had to some degree deserved what he'd gotten.

Splashing water into his face, Xander looked into the mirror, a frown on his face. Was it just him, or did he look older? Jackie had been in his twenties, gaining the power of The Darkness on his twenty-first birthday as was the birthright of every darkness vessel. Xander was still just seventeen, so he was sure that there couldn't be any side effects from having the power residing in his body.

_ Don't be so sure. _

Eyes going wide, Xander looked around wildly. "Who said that?!"

_ Oh come on, boy. You're not that stupid. Surely you've at least guessed by now. After all, you did transform into my favorite vessel last night, remember? _

Horrifying realization dawning, Xander shook is head in denial. "No... oh fuck, no..."

_ Ah, there we go. The dim bulb brightens. Lucky, lucky boy. Your mortal body aged rapidly last night to accommodate me, so let me say happy twenty-first birthday, Xander. You are The Darkness now. I am here, inside of you. You can do anything now, you have the power. And you'll pay the rpice for it. Enjoy! _

Xander stared slack jawed at his reflection in the mirror as a hint of a glow passed through his eyes. A single word summed up his situation nicely.

"Shit."

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"Aw, come on X. You know you want a piece of this. And I admit, you're pretty tasty looking yourself. That, and doing it with a guy that can grow tentacles could be kinky."

"For the goddamned last time Faith, I can't fuck you!"

Xander was swearing up a swarm as Faith kept coming onto him. He wanted to, oh God did he ever want to do her. But he couldn't take the risk. The Darkness was terrifyingly powerful, Angelus and the Judge both had been torn to shreds easily as had every other threat that he'd come across since Halloween. But as the sentient power that possessed him had warned, he paid a price for all of that power. The most frustrating of the prices that he had to pay was that if he ever got a girl pregnant, then The Darkness would leave him and go to his unborn son at the very moment of conception. And if The Darkness left him, then he would die almost instantly.

In other words, no sex if he wanted to live. Xander seriously wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. He was going to be a virgin forever! He might as well be a eunuch! At least that would be easier to deal with than this and his mounting frustration!

A frustration that Faith was doing her damnedest to add to. "How about now, X?"

"NO, FAITH!"

Yep, the universe sucked.

End Story 11: The Xanderness

Notes: I wasn't able to get at the computer until 10:30 pm, so I had to really rush this out if I wanted to keep to my quota of posting a chapter a day. Sorry that it's so short. I'm also not terribly familiar with The Darkness, but after a comment from Dargos it gave me this idea and my muse ran with it. I've read fanfiction where Xander had inherited the power of The Darkness, but not as a YAHF fic so I think that it can still be considered original. Hope it served to amuse nonetheless.

Character: Jackie Estacado from The Darkness comics (1996)

Next story: Heart of a Lion


	12. Chapter 12

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Damn, once again I find myself down to the wire with only a couple of hours until the deadline at the end of the day. Let's see if I can pull another rabbit out of the hat.

Snowecat: YAHF stands for "Yet Another Halloween Fic". As for my ideas, some of them I've had sitting in my fanfiction notes for over a year, others have been inspired by reviewer suggestions.

Warringer: Condoms and the pill do not provide an absolute 100 guarantee of preventing pregnancy, otherwise my little sister wouldn't be here. Thus even with those things, having sex is still like playing a game of Russian roulette for a Bearer of The Darkness.

SmacksKiller: I don't know, perhaps The Darkness would have steered it's host towards a fertile woman since until Jackie Estacado there were no Bearers worthy of The Darkness' ultimate goal; for it's host to BECOME The Darkness itself. Keep in mind that The Darkness itself is a sentient entity, and has it's own goals that don't necessarily match those of it's current host.

Sean Malloy-1: I have an X-men character planned, but it's not Juggernaut.

Harry2: Alright, now I'm convinced that I really am destined to keep proving you wrong. No, the character isn't Richard the Lionheart. Read on and you'll see.

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership of any sort.

Story 12: Heart of a Lion

One of Xander's fondest childhood memories was when he and Jesse were just kids, glued to the television and watching cartoons. Once the two of them watched an animated movie together, and Xander had loved it. It was an epic tale of fantasy, friendship, family, love of a non-romantic nature, sacrifice, learning about your own inner strength, and the battle between good and evil. That movie and it's message had left a deep impression upon him, and it had stayed with him up to the present day. That's why when Xander entered Ethan's shop, he went right for the section where the wigs and fake furs were kept. Now all he had to do was find just the right golden tawny color...

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The "Great Cat" as he'd once been scorned by his enemies as glanced sadly at the chaos around him. There was so much strife, so much mindless havoc. It reminded him of the last days of Narnia, where that world had been destroyed. Yet this was not Narnia, nor his own land. Nonetheless, he recognized it. It was Earth, the world that his beloved children had come to Narnia from. It pained him to see this world in such agony as it's own children destroyed it.

Compassion welled in his mighty heart as he watched a young girl, so much like dear little Lucy, standing fearfully in the middle of the street as tears ran down her face. Padding forward softly, he went to give her comfort. The girl trembled at his approach, eyes growing ever wider in fear. It was understandable, his appearance wasn't exactly comforting to those who didn't know him. Shaking out his tawny mane, he knelt so that his warm, soulful eyes met the little child's frightened ones. As soon as their eyes met, she stopped shaking; suddenly she didn't feel afraid anymore.

He spoke, his voice deep and rumbling but gentle with an infinite kindness to it. "Do not worry, child. I will not harm you, nor allow harm to come to you. Come, climb on. You may ride on my back."

Sarah blinked, gawking. First all of her friends start going crazy. Then a lion approached her, larger than any that she'd ever seen before with it's shoulder nearly half a foot higher than her head, making it at least four and a half to five feet high and much longer. She'd been terrified, knowing that she was barely a mouthful to this enormous beast. But then it's eyes had met hers, and she wasn't scared anymore. She felt safe and warm, like when her daddy took her into a great big bear hug or when her mommy tucked her in at night. Then the lion had spoke, and even as shock settled in at the thought of a talking lion she felt even better and safer as she listened to it's... no, his strong but gentle voice. Doing as he asked, Sarah climbed onto his back, nuzzling into his soft, warm fur. Whispering, she spoke next to the lion's ear. "Hello, Mr. Lion, my name's Sarah. You're a good talking lion, aren't you?"

The gentle beast chuckled, the sound a melody to all who heard it. "Hello, young Sarah, daughter of Eve. You may call me Aslan. And yes, I am a good lion, but I'm not a tame one. Now hold on, we have much to do tonight!"

With a mighty and thundering roar that could be heard for miles around, Aslan, the Greatest lion, King of the Beasts, son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea, and savior of Narnia bounded off into the night, the child clutching to his mane squealing in delight.

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Buffy sobbed against Xander's golden fur, arms wrapped around his thickly muscled neck as she let out her grief. Xander held one mighty paw against her back, giving comfort as he rumbled soothingly. Halloween had wrought many changes upon him, robbing him of his humanity. But he'd gained so much more in his opinion, gaining a small measure of Aslan's limitless wisdom, compassion, and ability to guide those who were lost and seeking the right path. "Buffy... I know this is hard, Buff. But consider this. If Angel were here, right now, what would he want you to do? Would he want you to do nothing for hopes of getting him back, or would he want you to stop Angelus? Would he want even more nightmares and guilt over Angelus' crimes thus being punished for the sins of another, or would he want peace? And ask yourself, that if you truly love him, wouldn't you let him go if it was for his benefit?"

Tears still leaking from her eyes, Buffy nodded weakly against Xander's mane. Sighing in compassion, Xander used his shoulder to nudge her chin so that he eyes met his. "What will you do now, Buffy?"

The tears were still there, but resignation and determination had replaced the hopelessness in her eyes. "He'd want me to stop Angelus... no matter the cost."

Chuckling sadly, Xander used his raised paw to pat her comfortingly on the back. "Good girl."

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Faith snuggled up against Xander's furry stomach, using him as a pillow as the two of them lay on the floor of the little cabin out in the woods that had become Xander's home ever since his transformation. Across from them was Oz in his werewolf form, unchained and not locked up in a cage but peaceful and not hostile; Aslan had been the King of the Beasts in Narnia after all and as such Xander could calm and control the normally out of control werewolf when the moon was full in the sky. As she snuggled into the warm side of her friend and guide, Faith asked a question that had been on her mind ever since seeing Xander fight vampires. "Hey, Xan? I've been meaning to ask, why is it that when you slice up a vamp with your claws that their wounds smoke like they'd been touched with the strongest holy water available or the Pope's own cross?"

"Because Faith, Aslan was more than just a character in a book. He symbolized someone, someone whose holiness could not be questioned. In this regard, Aslan is as much of a holy symbol as a crucifix is."

"Cool. But who did Aslan symbolize?"

"Why Faith, isn't it obvious? Haven't you ever heard of the 'lion of Judea'? Aslan was written as a symbol of Jesus Christ himself."

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Faith wept bitterly, Andrew by her side as she cradled Xander's lifeless body. The First had come for Andrew, demanding that he be turned over to the First for death since the boy had betrayed his own friend and as such his life was forfeit. But Xander hadn't allowed that, giving himself over in Andrew's place. The First had accepted gleefully, and a Bringer had plunged a sacrificial dagger into the unresisting lion's heart. So now here Faith lay, clinging to the corpse of the person that had saved her soul from her own darkness as Andrew also shed tears for the selfless actions of one former young man.

Forcing herself to let go as the first rays of dawn washed over them, Faith turned to Andrew. "The others will be heading down into the Hellmouth soon. We... We need to go."

As the two turned to leave, there was a great rending sound and they spun back around to see the stone altar that Xander had lain upon broken in two and his body gone. Then the sun rose over the horizon, and revealed Xander standing looking down at them fondly from atop the nearby hill. As one Faith and Andrew ran and embraced him, hardly believing this miracle. Breathing in the familiar scent of his mane, Faith breathed out a single word. "How?"

Xander chuckled. "Christ sacrificed himself for the world, Aslan sacrificed himself for the sake of Edmund, and I did the same for Andrew. There are powers that not even the First knows of, because those powers are based upon the overwhelming power of unconditional, selfless love. Now, let's get to the Hellmouth and show the First one simple thing; that as long as we love we can not be beaten. Hop on you two and hang on tight!"

As both Faith and Andrew jumped onto his back and clung tightly to his mane even as joyful tears replaced the sorrowful ones that had been in their eyes, Xander gave off his awe inspiring roar and bound off headed straight for the battle. The First didn't know it yet, but night had passed and a new day was about to dawn brighter than any other before it.

End Story 12: Heart of a Lion

Notes: Aslan has been near and dear to my heart since I was a young child, and I loved writing Xander as him even if my effort was greatly rushed.

Character: Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia books (1950 to 1956)

Next story: Confessionals, Cigarettes, and Twinkies


	13. Chapter 13

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Alright, let me just say that 24 won't happen simply because I'm not familiar with the series or the character, and I can say much the same for the majority of the suggestions I've been given. But if you give me an idea, I like it, and I'm familiar with the character, I'll probably use it.

Disclaimer: I'm knock, knock, knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's doooorrr... I mean, I don't own 'em.

Story 13: Confessionals, Cigarettes, and Twinkies

Xander cursed 'Herr Snyder' as he strode into Ethan's costume shop. It was bad enough that the troll had conscripted him to escort a bunch of sugar high little brats on what should have been his night off. But would his beloved dictator of a principal even let him choose what sort of costume he could wear? No, of course not! Snyder had specifically ordered Xander to dress like 'an upstanding member of the community'. That way, Snyder had explained, Xander couldn't corrupt the youth of Sunnydale with his 'delinquent, slacker tendencies'.

But Xander knew how he could stick it to the little man. He'd borrowed a Japanese comic book, a manga, from Johnathan a few weeks ago. There was one character in the book that Xander had really thought was cool. All he'd need to pull it off would be his Uncle Rory's old suit, a big plastic cross wrapped with cloth, and some pistols and fake cigarettes from Ethan's shop. There was no way that Snyder could object to this costume; after all what was more respectable than a priest?

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Wolfwood blinked then looked around. What the hell? Wasn't he supposed to be dead? His last memory was of bleeding out as he knelt on the floor of the local church, praying for forgiveness of his life of sin hidden behind the clothes of a priest. The cross shaped Punisher was slung over his right shoulder, sunglasses covered his eyes, and a crumpled cigarette hung from his lips as was his habit. Though this place was even stranger than him still being alive. Just look at all those trees, and grass, and other green, growing things! He'd been born and lived all of his life on the dry, dusty desert world known as Gunsmoke, the twin suns beating down upon the people trying to eke out an existence upon that unforgiving world.

To those he met, he was just an odd traveling priest, trying to earn money to help support the orphanage that he helped to run. But to those who had seen behind the kind of wise, kind, friendly exterior, he was something entirely else as well. Nicholas D. Wolfwood was a killer, a paid murderer. He'd killed the poor excuse of a human being that had called himself his father, then was taken in by the man who'd raised him and trained him as an assassin, the priest and contract killer Chapel. He'd grown up, started an orphanage to care for children, and acted like a real priest. However, when he went traveling he didn't just bring salvation and the chance for sinners to confess, he brought death to those who had a price on their heads, all in the guise of a holy man. That had all gone straight to hell after he met the man known as Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon who had a bounty of sixty billion double dollars on his head.

He'd accepted a job to keep an eye on Vash, to support him, guide him, and eventually to betray him. But the legendary gunman had slowly changed something within Wolfwood. He'd shown the killing priest a different way than what Wolfwood had known his whole life, a better way. Killing wasn't the only solution. He could live a life without killing if he chose to live that way. In the end, he'd found himself believing in Vash. He'd believed in Vash so much that he'd chosen death by the hands of his former mentor rather than betray his friend.

He was shaken from his stunned surprise by the sounds of children screaming. There were young children running away in fear, pursued by small monsters as pandemonium raged around them. Wolfwood narrowed his eyes as he watched the panic and unslung the cross from his shoulder, slamming the butt of it into the ground and ripping away the cloth covering it to reveal gleaming metal. He didn't know where he was or how he was alive, but he knew one thing. There were children in danger, and he had made a promise to himself. He wouldn't let any more children suffer, never again.

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"GLORIA!"

Spike cursed as he dodged out of the path that the bullets spewing from Xander's handguns were taking. Ever since Halloween, the whelp had been a real nuisance. Normally, guns didn't really hurt vampires. But the whelp had dressed as a bloody priest for Halloween. A bloody priest that shouted out a word of prayer when he started pulling the triggers. Basically, he was unconsciously BLESSING the bullets as they left the barrels of his handguns. A lesson that Spike had barely survived on Halloween, something that his minions couldn't also boast about.

Suddenly the gunshots fell silent, and Spike peered around the corner of the mausoleum to see what the boy was doing now. Impossibly, his pale face went even paler when he saw what Harris was toting. Perched on his shoulder was that damned cross-shaped portable armory that had become the bane of Sunnydale's vampire population. And one end of the cross had opened to reveal the unmistakable shape of a rocket launcher.

The vampire who'd bagged two Slayers in his unlife had time for only one last curse before the rocket impacted the stone masonry and shredded him into dusty pieces. "Oh bollocks."

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Xander stared out of the window, lit cigarette hanging from his lips. It was nights like this that he most vividly remembered Wolfwood's memories. The priest had been a complex man. A traveling priest that toted around a heavy cross "full of mercy". He remembered Chapel, the GungHo guns, and the people that Wolfwood had murdered. He remembered the children of the orphanage, how they had given Wolfwood a purpose. He remembered Vash and the affect that the immortal gunman had on the priest's life. And he remembered all of the other people that he and Vash had helped on their journeys. But most of all, he remembered the Insurance Girls that followed Vash around; specifically he remembered Millie. The large, kindhearted girl and Wolfwood had only had that one night together before the tainted priest's death, but they'd loved a lifetime in that one night.

Turning from the window, he regarded the woman lying asleep on the bed next to him. He and Faith had grown close over the last eight months or so. He'd teased and wheedled her into confessing about her past to him after easily seeing through her mask of being the "tough girl". Then she'd healed after he started bringing her by the local orphanage on his weekly volunteer rounds. Being around the children had done her a lot of good. But in the end, she'd healed him as well. They'd learned about the mayor, about his plans to ascend into a demon. Xander had taken it upon himself to see to it that the mayor didn't become a threat, and the next day the newspapers had reported how someone had riddled the mayor's office with a machine gun, killing the mayor, the deputy mayor, and two other city officials that were inside. After that the other Scoobies had distanced themselves from him when he needed them the most, but Faith had stayed. She provided him the comfort he needed after having killed people, just as he'd given her comfort from the nightmares of her past.

Stubbing out the cigarette, Xander went to bed, silently vowing to Wolfwood that he'd learn from the man's example. No matter what happened, he wouldn't leave Faith's side. More than anything else, she was his salvation.

End Story 13: Confessionals, Cigarettes, and Twinkies

Notes: I'm disappointed with myself. I'd intended to do so much more with this idea, but at the last minute I came down with some writer's block. I was barely able to get this out before the daily deadline, and the character of Wolfwood deserves so much better than this. Sigh... what're you going to do? I guess that when you commit to writing a fic a day, that sometimes quality must suffer for the sake of speed. I hope that despite being short and not as well written as some of my other stories in this series that you all still enjoyed it.

Character: Nicholas D. Wolfwood from Trigun (manga 1995-97, anime 1998)

Next story: Xander, Clan Ordo


	14. Chapter 14

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Dream on, dream on, keep on dreamin' 'til your dreams come trrruuuueee... Um, I mean, thanks to everybody for your support.

Sean Malloy-1: OO MY MUSE LIKES THAT IDEA! If it hasn't been done before, maybe.

Tony the jew: Yes, you hit the womp rat on the head.

Firehedgehog: Ranma has been done already by somebody else so don't expect to see it here.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura: Probably not as I'm not that familiar with MacGuyver and A-Team, and Pretender has been crossed over with Buffy many times before. Maybe, but it's not likely.

stickzx: I default to Faith because she's my favorite Xander pairing. I don't mention Dawn very often because usually I end my stories at a point before where she existed.

Harry2: Your guesses amuse me... Once again, no.

Disclaimer: Once again, I don't own anything, I have nothing, don't sue me as it would be pointless.

Story 14: Xander, Clan Ordo

Xander was practically salivating at his find. It was a simple little temporary tattoo. It was slightly frightening and imposing, showing the image of a long, narrow skull much like that of a goat with two curving horns on either side of it's head. Most would have thought it to just be an interesting design and dismiss it as being anything else. But Xander was a sci-fi geek of discerning tastes. He knew what this was, what it represented, and his inner fanboy rejoiced at it's discovery. Quickly he grabbed some hair dye and a toy laser gun, then nearly skipped over to the cash register with the temporary tattoo pressed closely to his chest. This was going to be great! Why go as a common, everyday soldier when you could go as one of the most feared warriors in the universe instead?

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The tall, heavily muscled, slightly scarred, and utterly imposing figure brought up one hand to his neck and grunted as he cricked it to one side. Steel gray eyes scanned the area with a predator's gaze, the streetlights glaring off of his silvery gray hair in it's crisp, military crew cut. He wore simple clothes, a reddish brown vest worn over a black muscle shirt and tan fatigue pants with sturdy boots. Slung over his shoulder was a weapon that would make any soldier drool in lust and anybody that it was pointed at wet themselves, it's multiple rotating barrels gleaming with the promise of death. But perhaps most intimidating was the tattoo just peeking out from under the sleeve of his vest, an alien skull adorning his left shoulder and proclaiming one simple thing to those who knew what that symbol meant; this was a Mandalorian warrior, one of the best fighters that the multiverse had ever seen.

Canderous, of the Mandalore Clan Ordo, growled deeply in his throat at some strange creature as it approached. The little monster, reminiscent of the Rhakghouls that could be found in the lowest pits of the sprawling city planet Taris, yipped in fear and wisely scampered off to find easier prey. The former mercenary snorted in disgust; the thing was worth nothing to a Mandalorian, with no hope of providing even a half decent challenge. As a Mandalorian Neo-Crusader, he'd burned countless worlds during the Mandalorian Wars, and after the defeat of the Mandalorians he'd become a mercenary. He'd killed a lot of people: criminals, competitors, businessmen, police, women, and even children; he couldn't say that he was proud of all of it, but he had. He was a seasoned warrior, having fought amongst the stars for over forty standard years. If it didn't provide a challenge for his skills, then it held precious little interest to him.

The Mandalorian wondered why he was in his old clothes, the ones he wore back when he still worked for the crime boss Davik Kang and was journeying with the former Dark Lord of the Sith Revan in search for the Star Forge. Ah, his journeys with Revan; that was a great time, ensuring his name to be remembered in his people's history as he fought beside their most honored and revered adversary. In beating the Mandalorians during the war Revan had proven himself as being a warrior deserving of respect, earning himself Canderous' eternal loyalty. He hadn't worn these things since assuming the mantle of Mandalore, the leader of his people He had no clue where he was or where his warriors were. Sighing in frustration, Canderous hoisted his heavy repeating blaster into a ready position and began stomping down the street. Even if he didn't find out where he was or how he'd come to be here, maybe he'd at least come across a worthy fight along the way.

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Angelus wanted to cry as he looked at the Judge's smoking corpse, then looked up into Xander's contemptuous gray eyes as the muscle bound teenager blew away imaginary smoke from the barrels of his weapon. The young man's voice was mocking as he sadly shook his head from side to side in disappointment. "Pathetic. This is the best challenge that you could come up with, Dead Boy?"

Xander Harris had changed a lot in some ways since Halloween, but very little in others. He was still intensely loyal to his friends and those who commanded his respect. He still had a wry sense of humor and an occasionally cutting wit. But he'd become more aggressive, ambitious, and disciplined. He'd gained an impressive physique, and had forty years worth of memories, skills, and military experience in his head. Xander also loved a challenge now, and routinely sought out the strongest and nastiest vampires and demons in order to engage them in combat. Most frightening was that the boy seemed to have extremely little fear of death after being influenced by Canderous. Buffy had gone from the most feared person on the Hellmouth to the second in the few months since that fateful Halloween.

The vampire was broken from his thoughts by the sound of Xander's blaster clattering to the ground. His eyes widened as Xander approached him, unsheathing a frighteningly large Bowie knife. The teenager who'd been transformed into a Mandalorian warrior grinned and assumed a stance. "You have quite a reputation, Angelus. The Scourge of Europe, very nice. You've got a Slayer or two under your belt, don't you? You should prove to be a worthy enough challenge."

Angelus barely had time to comprehend what was going on before a hard fist rocketed into his jaw, disconnecting the vertebrae in his neck from the sheer force. Before he could recover, the knife flashed up and parted his head from his shoulders. Xander looked sullen as the dust pooled around his booted feet. "Well that was disappointing."

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Faith grinned down at Xander, their sweating bodies pressed closely together. Both were breathing hard, and shit eating grins were on their faces. She crawled up his torso so that her mouth was right next to his ear as she whispered. "I win this round. Yield, Boy Toy."

To emphasize her point, she pressed her bo staff into his throat a little harder, keeping him pinned down on the training mats. Xander's smile just got wider. Sparring against Faith was a joy. She had the spirit and love of battle equal to that of any Mandalorian. She had him in a vulnerable position, but he wasn't going to give up. It wasn't the Mandalorian way. Mandalorians fought the hardest that they possibly could until they couldn't fight any longer, and win or lose they would rejoice at the chance for having had a glorious battle. Ever since Halloween, Xander had considered part of himself to be Mandalorian and he wasn't going to give Faith the victory that easily.

Bucking his hips, Xander threw her off and in a flurry of movement got to his knees and lunged forward, catching her ankles and bringing her back crashing to the matted floor. Not wasting a moment he covered her with his own heavy body, keeping her legs spread apart with his so that she couldn't get leverage. Her arms were pinned over her head by one strong hand, and the other lightly circled her throat to indicate a stranglehold. He growled, primal joy fueling him as he fought and struggled against the Slayer. "Never give up the fight while there's a chance for victory, Faith. If you don't fight your hardest, it takes away from the glory of victory. Now, do you yield?"

Faith licked her lips, feeling heat rushing through her body. Damn, she loved sparring with Xander. Fighting him was almost like foreplay. If she ever got him in the sack, she was sure that he'd be a regular beast with his strength and stamina. But right now, she had a fight to win. Bringing her head snapping towards his face with as much strength as she could muster, Faith smirked as she felt his nose shatter against her forehead as blood began to pour out. Instinctively Xander brought a hand up to cover his nose, loosening his grip and allowing Faith to free her right arm before bringing it crashing into his ribcage and sending him flying off of her.

Jumping to her feet, Faith grinned wildly as she assumed a new stance, ready for the next engagement against her sparring partner. "What do you think, X?"

Xander gave a pleased grin as his thumb pushed his broken nose back into place, the special cybernetic implants that he'd gained from Canderous already starting to heal the damage just as fast as a vampire's or Slayer's healing. Taking up his own stance, Xander cricked his neck as he smiled in appreciation at the the dark haired Slayer. "Good girl."

Then he came at her again, and the rather flirtatious sparring exercise continued.

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Faith breathed heavily on the mats, Xander next to her as sweat poured off of their bodies. The scene was similar to that of their earlier sparring session of a few hours ago. The only difference was that this time, they were both stark naked. Exhausted after sex for the first time after becoming a Slayer, Faith actually was feeling sentimental and close to a man for the first time in forever. Somehow, she just knew that Xander wouldn't take anything that she wasn't willing to give. He wouldn't abandon or betray her. Surprisingly, after these months of hanging with Xander, of sparring with him and getting to know him before finally doing him, she found that she actually trusted him.

Wrapping an arm around Xander, Faith smiled seductively at him, truly well sated for the first time in a long time. "Damn, X. You really are a total sack viking, just like I always figured you'd be. What did a girl like me do to run into a halfway decent stud like you?"

Xander's eyes were serious as he regarded her, and Faith shivered at the slightly gravelly tone of his voice. "You've proven yourself a true warrior, Faith. Nobody else here has earned my respect as a fighter as much as you have. You have the will, the spirit, and the determination of a truly great warrior. Fighting either beside you or against you is an honor, and the challenge that I've been looking for. My loyalty is yours. Good or bad, I'm your soldier Faith. 'Til the end."

And once again, she believed him.

End Story 14: Xander, Clan Ordo

Notes: Canderous is one of the coolest Star Wars characters ever. Just like with Xander as a Spartan, it was a pleasure writing Xander as this character. I like the tough guys who love a good fight.

Character: Canderous Ordo from Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic videogame (2003)

Next story: Sly Harris


	15. Chapter 15

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Over a hundred reviews, nearly ten reviews for every chapter. Sniffle… Thank you all. In nearly four years of writing fanfiction off and on, I have never felt so appreciated.

Firehedgehog: …..I'm going to disregard that comment. No disrespect to the series, but the only way I'm writing Digimon is if I have about six shots or so from my bottle of 38 year old 80 percent proof Serbian plum brandy. Now THAT'S how you kill brain cells.

Kestrel: Amen and hallelujah to that. FOR THE LVING!

Dargos: When I first heard this suggestion, I scoffed at it. Then I gave it a second thought, combined the thought with another reviewer suggestion, and my muse liked the resulting idea. Expect for it to happen.

Sean Malloy-1: What Disney character would you suggest?

snowecat: Yes, your ears do detect what you think they detect. I usually have Xander doing more stuff with Faith because I usually pair the two of them, being an avid Xander/Faith fan. Maybe I'll try other pairings in the remaining chapters just for the fun of it however. Anyone have any pairing suggestions?

Some Random Guy: Yes, you are correct in your assumption sir. I agree that a Reploid on the Hellmouth would be awesome, unfortunately I'm not familiar enough with Megaman in order to do the series justice if I used it.

Harry2: Once again, you are sadly incorrect. As for Yu-Gi-Oh, I respect you as a reviewer and I respect your opinion, but it's just as likely to happen as a Digimon crossover; in other words unless I get staggeringly drunk only a direct command from God himself will get me to write a crossover with this series.

Anyway, thanks once again to everybody for all the great reviews. You all rock!

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, or at least I won't until I sneak into the studio offices and steal the copyrights, and then they shall all belong to… Um, I mean… Care for a scone and a spot of tea gov'nor?

Story 15: Sly Harris

"Jonathan, I have just one question for you… Why?"

"C'mon Xander, it'll be great!"

Xander Harris groaned as his acquaintance, Jonathan Levinson, dragged him past the cosplay section of Ethan's costume shop and right into what Xander considered to be the heart of all evil. The furry section. Seriously, what sort of people dressed up as anthromorphic freaks of nature? It just wasn't right. But Jonathan was insistent, wanting at least one other person to join him in his hobby for Halloween. And Xander was the lucky sap that he'd chosen.

Sighing, Xander decided to stop resisting and just give in. "Fine. But if I'm going to have to dress like a humanoid cat person or something, then I want your collector's edition of Babylon 5 Season 1!"

"What?! That's outrageous! Xander, how could you ask a fellow fan to give up something like that?!"

"Final offer Jono or I'm out of here."

"Fine! I'll let you borrow it for a month, ok? Sheesh, now go get yourself a costume."

Comforted by the fact that he was at least going to get something out of this humiliation, Xander moved to comply and began inspecting the various furry costumes at hand. After a few minutes of browsing the shelves, he finally settled on a raccoon costume. Hmmm, raccoons had a reputation as thieves, so maybe he should go as a raccoon sneak thief? The idea certainly deserved at least a little further thought…

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Sly Cooper, last descendant of the infamous Cooper Thief Clan and the greatest thief in the world, looked around in puzzlement as he lifted his ever present cap slightly and scratched his scalp with the tip of his hooked cane, his ringed tail waving behind him. "Well, this sure isn't Paris. Where's Carmelita? The last thing I remember was holding her in my arms on the balcony of our apartment. I wonder if I really did get amnesia this time. Man that would reek."

With a shrug of his shoulders, the currently retired master thief launched himself at a nearby lamppost. Hooking onto it with the end of his family's cane, Sly came around so that his arms and legs were wrapped around the thin pole, the cane held firmly in his jaws. Barely taking a second, he shimmied up to the top of the post, kicking off of it and making a perfect midair flip that would make any Olympic athlete green with envy. Using all the grace of a world class gymnast, the humanoid raccoon landed neatly on the very tip of the lamppost, carefully perched on a surface no more then four inches wide at most. Tensing his body, he made another astonishing leap, cane outstretched to snag a bundle of cables shaped in a circle at the side of a nearby telephone pole. Using his momentum as he swung from the ring, Sly twisted his cane ever so slightly so that the hook on the end came undone from the ring that he'd hooked it to, spending him soaring up into the sky. Flipping again, he once more landed perfectly upon the telephone wires and ran down them faster and more precisely than any tightrope artist in even the finest of circuses. Having finally gotten enough height and getting close enough to the nearby houses, Sly jumped one more time and landed without a single hint of noise on the roof of the nearest building.

Shrugging off his incredible display of acrobatic prowess as an everyday occurrence, Sly began leaping from rooftop to rooftop, the wind rustling through his gray fur as large brown eyes scanned the streets below. He didn't know where he was, but it was always safer on the rooftops. As he continued running along the rooftops, Sly felt excitement building in him. Without his girlfriend, Interpol Inspector Carmelita Fox around right now, maybe he could find something worth stealing. It had been a long time since he last pulled a heist. Retirement was so boring!

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Whimpering in growing terror and pain, Xander kept frantically tugging at the raccoon tail and gray fur covering his body. But it was no use. It wouldn't come off, and pulling on it hurt like it was his real skin. He was stuck like this.

At that moment, Xander Harris vowed to any gods that were listening that both Jonathan Levinson and Ethan Rayne would pay dearly for this.

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The mayor smiled as he patted his newest prized possession, the Book of Ascension. The time wasn't right to read it at the moment however. He would have to wait, however briefly. Tomorrow should be soon enough to use the book and complete one more phase in his quest for demonhood.

Turning off the lights and flipping the security system on, the mayor exited the room and locked it behind himself. The pedestal that the book lay upon was in the center of the room, illuminated only by the moonlight pouring in from the skylight above. Suddenly a shadow was cast against the shape of the moon as a figure landed gently next to the skylight, peering into the room below. A glass cutter was carefully placed up against one of the panes of glass, and within a matter of minutes there was a hole about a foot and a half in diameter in the glass. As the cut circle of glass began falling to the ground, the end of a hooked cane flew through the hole with lightening speed and effortlessly snagged the piece of glass, bringing it back up through the hole. The figure stood contemplating the hole before it, knowing that it would be next to impossible for any human being to squeeze through.

However what some people didn't realize was that raccoons were extremely flexible, and as long as they could get their heads through an opening it would be easy to get the rest of their body through as well. The figure demonstrated this fact when it passed through the small opening with ease, the moonlight shining down to reveal the furry gray and black features of Xander "Sly" Harris. Falling a couple of feet, Xander flipped in midair, his legs wrapped around the end of his cane while the hooked end grabbed onto the edge of the hole he'd created. Upside down, his cap kept on his head due to the presence of a strap going over it and coming underneath his chin, Xander brought up a pair of futuristic goggles to his eyes and scrutinized the room. Just as he thought. Lasers, a lot of lasers; the mayor wasn't taking any chances with this piece of merchandise.

Grinning, he unhooked the cane, twisting and spinning effortlessly through the lasers before coming to a rest in front of the encased pedestal. Reaching up, he tapped a microphone at his throat, turning on the walkie talkie before whispering into it. "Wolf, is the van in position?"

Oz, responding to his codename, came back over the radio in his typically calm voice. "Here and ready to go, Sly."

"Good. Red, we on?"

This time Willow's voice responded. "Just a second, I'm hacked in... The mayor really is as old as the town, he doesn't seem to appreciate the importance of a good computer security system. That firewall was child's play. I'm pulling up the security files... Ok, the code is 8, 3, 5."

Punching in the passcode on the keypad next to the glass case's lock, Xander smirked in satisfaction as the door swung open. Inspecting the book, he was pleased to see that it was set upon a pressure sensitive alarm which would trip if there was any significant change in weight. Good, for a minute he'd been thinking that this heist wasn't going to be any fun at all. Having been prepared for this, Xander pulled out a stack of papers of the same size and weight as the Book of Ascension from the small pack strapped across his shoulders. Moving with the precision of a surgeon, Xander carefully slid the book away, simultaneously replacing it's lost weight with the stack of papers. Seeing as how the mayor was so concerned with the future of Sunnydale's youth, he was sure that he'd appreciate getting a stack of old test scores.

Tucking his target securely in his pack, Xander grinned mischievously as he left his calling card on the edge of the pedestal. As soon as the mayor saw it, he'd know who'd ripped him off and would also know that the book would be destroyed long before he could arrange to have it recovered. Man he loved his job! Climbing nimbly to the top of the case, he jumped over to a wall display of ancient armor, using it as leverage so that he could jump up high enough to hook the edge of his entry point with his cane. Dangling there for a second, Xander pulled himself up the length of the cane and with that he was gone, leaving the room empty and the security systems none the wiser as to what had happened.

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The mayor stared incredulously at the display case where the Book of Ascension had been just last night. All those years of careful planning, all that patience, all wasted now. And he knew just who had done this.

Placed upon the pedestal as a calling card, was a single Twinkie.

Genuine anger filling him for the first time in nearly a century, the mayor roared out the name of the stinking faith that had singlehandedly ruined all of his dreams and plans.

"HARRIS!"

Lying relaxed on a rooftop a block away, Xander smiled widely at a job well done as he listened to the mayor's scream of rage. Ah, just like the old times in Sly's world. Now all he needed was to find a hot lady cop who was into the furry scene.

End Story 15: Sly Harris

Notes: Everybody loves a cunning sneak thief, and I love Sly Cooper. It is the only platform game that I'm truly willing to play multiple times. Next story, I'm putting Sean Malloy-1 and Dargos' suggestions into use. I hope that you're all looking forward to it as much as I am.

Character: Sly Cooper from the Sly Cooper videogame series (beginning in 2002)

Next story: Xander Superior, Fang Faces Inferior


	16. Chapter 16

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Alright, we're halfway through. Just another couple of weeks, and I can relax and take a break. Cause I'll tell you, writing a chapter a day can be tiring. However, with your reviews and support I shall persevere! Now on to reviewer responses.

thsunami: Both you and practically everyone else seem to want more of Xander as a Templar. If I do anything else with these ficlets, I'll probably do more with that one and with the Dragonrider one. As for your suggestions, Guyver has already been done, I might do one of my more favorite Batmans since I'm pretty sure that this one has never been used in a YAHF, and Conan could be a possibility. We'll just wait and see.

dogbertcarroll: What do you mean? How do you suggest I mix things up?

Saiorse: Sorry, never heard of Infernal.

Firehedgehog: Ok, no offense, but you're really pushing my rule of not verbally assaulting the reviewers with that last suggestion. I appreciate your enthusiasm for this work, but I'm definitely going to have to say no to Dragontails.

Skoellya: Yeah, Narnia was a favorite of mine as well when I was a youth. There is a Naruto character planned, though you'll have to wait and see which one it is. Sadly I'm not familiar with Artemis Fowl, and Luthor just doesn't appeal to me. Besides, I'm much more of an anti-hero fan than a villain fan.

stickzx: I'm glad that you enjoyed the last story. Unfortunately I've never played Half-life so I wouldn't have the faintest clue as to how I'd write him as Gordon Freeman. Xander as Mario would be amusing, but as you said it wouldn't be good for a full story. As for the pairings you suggested, this one is going to be a Xander/Drusilla of sorts, I have another planned out with Xander/Cordelia, and since you're not the only one who has asked for it I'm trying to figure out a Xander/Glory. There's also going to be a Xander/Willow for the X/W fans, if you don't mind that. Probably no Buffy pairings with Xander. And where Dawn is concerned, I'll put more effort into getting her into at least a couple of stories. Does anyone else have pairings they'd like to see?

CervantesOsis: I am familiar with Bleach, and I'll probably use it at some point.

Harry2: Look, I don't want to do the Yu-Gi-Oh cross, but if you can think of anything else that you'd really like to see tell me and I'll see if I can make it work.

Again, I thank you all for your great reviews and suggestions. Sean Malloy-1 and Dargos, this one is for the two of you since it was your combined suggestions that spawned this idea. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I DO own them… But only in a parallel dimension. Here, I got nothing.

Story 16: Xander Superior, Fang Faces Inferior

Almost lovingly, Xander slowly brought the brush across the cardboard, coloring it in blues and whites. It had taken him nearly a month to put the costume together, but he didn't mind. A true fan went to great lengths to show their love of a certain series or character, and Xander had been a big fan of the cartoon show ever since he was little. There were few children of the eighties that hadn't seen the show at least once, and many of them still harbored warm feelings for the memories of many a Saturday morning spent glued to the tv screen.

Putting away his current paintbrush, Xander took up a new one and added a few lines of yellow around the chest and legs. Then a bit of red, and it was done. Smiling, Xander took the strip of clear red plastic and snapped it into place. The face itself was painted a metallic chrome color, a solid plate covering the mouth. Above all, the joints were properly positioned so that all Xander had to do was kneel and move his limbs around slightly in order to assume his costume's alternate form. It was perfect.

Hiding the drying costume in the closet so that his parents didn't find it, Xander pulled on a light jacket then headed out of the house. There were still a few things that Xander needed, and that new place Ethan's was having an opening day sale. He was sure that they'd have a plastic ray gun. And if they didn't have any cassettes, he'd just pick them up at Radio Shack or something.

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When Ethan Rayne's spell hit Xander, he promptly began screaming as if his very soul was being ripped out and his body was disintegrating. If you could have seen inside of his costume, you would have seen blood trickling out of his nose as his eyes rolled back into his head, his very body rebelling against him. That wasn't even the most gruesome part as bones snapped and shattered, organs contorted, and skin split open. Even as his organic body was destroying itself, his costume was becoming much larger and the cardboard transformed into a metal not of this Earth. After nearly an entire minute, the screaming stopped. Within five minutes, what was once Xander stood some forty feet tall, light gleaming off of his blue and white metallic body. A red visor where the eyes should be stared soullessly out at the night, the face plate underneath it denying any expression of emotion. And emblazoned upon his large, square chest was an evil looking, purple symbol looking almost like the sneering face of a robot.

Soundwave, being the information gatherer and master spy that he was, carefully scanned every square centimeter of the surrounding area. The Decepticon didn't show a single bit of emotion as he stood there, letting his optics take in data. It was Earth, but it wasn't any city or town that the sentient machine had ever seen before. His sensors couldn't pick up signals from any nearby Decepticons or even from their sworn enemies, the Autobots. It appeared that Soundwave was on his own. Fortunately for the Decepticon often seen as the mighty Megatron's right hand bot, he was never truly alone.

Reaching up to his chest, Soundwave pressed a button which opened a somewhat translucent cover in the center of his torso where his Decepticon symbol was placed, and called out in an emotionless, mechanical monotone. **"Buzzsaw, Laserbeak, Ratbat, Ravage, Rumble, Frenzy. Eject and transform."**

As soon as he spoke, six cassette tapes that were nearly as large as a man flew out of the opening in Soundwave's chest. Moving as one, the cassettes transformed at the exact same time. Two turned into robotic birds, one looking like a black and yellow condor with rocket thrusters on it's back and a wicked golden beak, and the other looking like a black and red mechanical vulture. Another cassette turned into a purple and black bat-like creature. A fourth transformed into a black and gray robotic jaguar. The last two cassettes transformed into nearly identical looking humanoid robots about the same size as a man, one colored purple and blue while the other one was colored red and black. These six were one of the many reasons why Soundwave was feared by the Autobots and indispensable to the Decepticons. The cassette Decepticons were strongly bonded to Soundwave in an almost symbiotic relationship and they defended him as strongly as he protected them from the larger Transformers; they were his spies, soldiers, saboteurs, trackers, and in many ways were almost like his family. And despite their small size, with their various skills and abilities as well as their generally aggressive natures, each one of them could cause even a full size Autobot to have a very bad day.

They all stood at attention in front of him, eagerly awaiting their orders and prepared to carry them out with extreme prejudice. The red and black humanoid Decepticon that was rightfully called Frenzy waved at Soundwave, his voice rude and psychotically cheerful. **"Yo Boss! You need us to bust in some teeth or something? Please say yes!"**

Beside him the other humanoid robot, his brother Rumble, nodded in approval as his own deep, terrifyingly tough voice chimed in. **"Yes. Soundwave, we destroy things now?"**

The black jaguar, Ravage, growled in anticipation at the thought of imminent violence and carnage, while the robotic condor Buzzsaw, vulture-like Laserbeak, and mechanical bat Ratbat flew and circled around Soundwave's head in a bid for attention. The much larger Deception waved them off, indicating that he was serious and would accept nothing less than total attention and obedience from his various partners. **"Enough. Location, unknown. No Decepticon or Autobot signals in vicinity. Information required. Buzzsaw, Ratbat, Operation Reconnaissance. Survey area then report. Laserbeak, Operation Locate. Disturbance in progress, track source then report."**

The three flying Decepticons all gave cries of acknowledgment, speeding off to do as they'd been commanded. Turning to the two humanoid robots, Soundwave gestured to the creatures surrounding them. **"Rumble, Frenzy. Operation Crowd Control. Multiple contacts, potential hostiles. Contain until further instructed."**

At their orders, both Frenzy and Rumble grinned, the red colored robot managing to get his opinion on the matter in before his robotic brother. **"Alright! Action! This'll be like taking energon cubes from a little baby!"**

Moving in tandem Frenzy and Rumble ran towards the crowds of monsters, their arms transforming into piledrivers. Pointing the ends of their piledriver arms at the ground, the brothers engaged the piledrivers, pounding the ground furiously. Soon vibrations raced through the ground, knocking the organic monsters to their backs and causing no small amount of property damage. Rumble and Frenzy smiled in satisfaction; they so did love their jobs.

Finally, Soundwave turned to his final robot cassette, the mechanical jaguar Ravage. Ravage growled inquisitively, and Soundwave nodded in affirmation. **"Yes, Ravage. Once Laserbeak concludes Operation Locate, you will initiate Operation Eliminate. We are probably here because of this disturbance. The cause of it must be terminated."**

Ravage growled in anticipation. More than any other cassette, he was utterly loyal and devoted to Soundwave. Part of this was because he and Soundwave had a similar appreciation for cold, vicious violence. Cries and screams were music to Soundwave's audio receptors, and Ravage was eager to please. Whatever or whoever had caused this disturbance wouldn't stand a chance once Laserbeak reported in with his information and Ravage was unleashed to hunt whatever it was down; the jaguar could practically taste the blood on it's metallic tongue, and it tasted sweet.

And all the while Soundwave stood still as chaos raged around him, emotionless and uncaring.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Angelus sneered in triumph as the Judge stalked menacingly toward Buffy and the Scoobies, Drusilla singing and laughing behind him. She was certainly in a good mood. And why shouldn't she be? The only thing standing between them and total control over Sunnydale was about to be destroyed. Even though the Scoobies hadn't been the same and were nowhere near as effective after Xander had gone missing on Halloween, they were still the biggest threat on the Hellmouth and they were mere seconds away from being squashed like bugs. He was going to savor this.

Suddenly a scraping sound interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see what it was as everybody else turned their gazes to see what had caught the vampire's attention. Being pushed towards them from the Radio Shack store was what appeared to be an unusually large cassette player, with a strange purple symbol on the cassette cover. Recognizing the symbol and suddenly remembering what Xander had dressed as for Halloween before he disappeared, Willow felt dread settle in her stomach. She'd also watched Transformers as a kid, and knew that this was perhaps the most dangerous of all the evil Decepticons; she doubted that Xander's mind could have stood up against a being with millions of years worth of memories and experiences. Desperate, she began pulling Oz and Buffy towards the exit, too frantic to notice their surprise and confusion. Unable to fully express the new danger that they found themselves in, Willow just kept pulling them away from the scene of imminent carnage as she screamed at them. "Come on! We've got to get out of here! We can't beat that thing, it's a killer!"

Snapped back to attention by Willow's cries, Angelus was about to order his minions to charge the retreating Scoobies before he was frozen by en unearthly, indescribable sound. Turning, the vampire looked up to see that where the cassette player was once placed now stood a forty foot tall robot, the light glinting against his emotionless red visor as he stared down at Angelus. It was this action that stunned both the vampires and the Judge, allowing the Scoobies to escape just as the robot reached and tapped the side of it's chest. It's voice was cold, mechanical, and completely void of any sliver of warmth or emotion as it spoke. **"Ravage, Ratbat, Buzzsaw. Eject and transform. Operation End Game."**

Cassette tapes flew out of the machine's chest and transformed into a mechanical condor, a bat, and a jaguar. From behind the towering robot came two differently colored humanoid robots, obviously the two that had been pushing the tape player forward. As one, the five smaller robots charged forward. Buzzsaw and Ratbat swooped overhead, grasping a vampire by the shoulders and bearing them airborne before neatly biting off their heads. Ravage pounced upon the demonic undead and lived up to his namesake, mauling them until they finally dusted and he moved one to the next one. Rumble and Frenzy however both went straight for the armored Judge, tackling him to the ground and pinning him underneath their heavy metal feet. Frenzy smirked in savage joy as he and Rumble transformed their arms and began pummeling the demon underneath them into a fine paste, laughing in delight as the Judge's armor began to crack under the vicious series of blows. **"First we crack the shell, then we bust up the nut inside!"**

As for the larger robot, he strode forward with surprising grace and agility, reaching down and easily catching Angelus in his grasp. Gasping in pain as mechanical fingers closed around him, the Scourge of Europe was helpless as the robotic being brought him up to his expressionless face. Angelus only wished that he could have been as expressionless as he heard the next words that left the robot's mouth, his eyes and mouth both going wide as he processed the dull, robotic monotone. **"Xander superior, Angelus inferior."**

The vampire chocked back his shock and managed to gasp out a question; he might not need to breathe but having his ribcage compressed by strong metallic fingers that were nearly as large as his own body was still painful. "Harris? Is that you? Is this why you disappeared after Halloween? You transformed and didn't change back?"

"**Affirmative. All organic components were removed and replaced with mechanical parts by spell cast by subject Ethan Rayne. Ravage dealt with him before Rumble and Frenzy destroyed the bust of Janus. In same manner, all irrelevant emotions, biological impulses, and useless attachments were erased prior to memory from organic brain being converted and stored into computer brain. Xander now is fully inorganic and mechanical."**

Angelus actually shivered as he listened to the being that was once Xander dispassionately describe how he'd been transformed from living flesh into cold metal and gears. In essence, Xander Harris had died that Halloween, replaced with this robot that had his memories but none of his emotions or attachments. "Why… why didn't you contact Buffy or Willow? They thought you were dead."

Xander's voice didn't even waver, still chillingly cold and absolutely void of any and all feeling or emotion. **"Irrelevant. Mechanics superior, organics inferior. As I am, I can live for millions of Earth years if not billions. Human life is meaningless. Soon they will either serve to provide for my coming race of mechanical beings, or they will be eliminated. You were stopped only because some humans might be useful, and must not be harmed before they can be enslaved. You are threat to plans. Goodbye, Angelus."**

With that Xander clenched his hand into a fist, the vampire crumbling into dust and passing through his fingers. Turning, he surveyed his subordinates handy work. Both the Judge and all of the vampires had been eliminated with extreme prejudice. Save for one. Standing in the middle of the battlefield, Drusilla giggled insanely as she watched the circling Ravage as the mechanical jaguar snarled at her. "My Kitten has gotten all tall and shiny and has kitties of his own now, he does. I knew that he'd dust Daddy, Miss Edith told me so. And the stars! Oh, the stars they scream and cry! They see the metal men marching across them, one by one! The pretty fires as the universe burns, and all kneel before the king of the metal men, the first one, master of the sounds! My tummy dances at all the lovely, lovely blood as the whole world drowns in it!"

Xander waved Ravage off, then bent down on one knee to more closely stare at the vampiress. What she was saying almost sounded like what he intended for the future, to lead the race of mechanical beings he hoped to create in a war of conquest across the stars, thus proving the superiority of robotic lifeforms. He knew that Drusilla could see the future, a potentially unbeatable weapon if one had the intelligence and patience to discern the meaning behind her words. And Xander had both intelligence and patience in plenty now that his biological mind and body had been replaced with a calm, calculating machine. Reaching down, Xander offered Drusilla his hand. **"Vampire Drusilla, your ability of foresight is useful. You may join my soon to be born empire as a supporting organic, or Ravage will eliminate. Choose."**

Drusilla's mad grin just got wider, joy bubbling within her broken mind as the stars spoke of the coming devastation and carnage, all caused by this being who no longer had the bonds of emotion to shackle his ideas and plans. Taking the tip of one massive finger in both hands, Drusilla kissed it gently before laying her cheek against the living metal. "Miss Edith and I were wondering when you would ask, Kitten. Of course we'll join in, we wouldn't want to miss the tea party now would we?"

And the universe screamed in fear.

End Story 16: Xander Superior, Fang Faces Inferior

Notes: What? I'm a Transformers fan. And while it wasn't Optimus Prime like he suggested, I did use Sean Malloy-1's idea of using Transformers while combining it with Dargos' suggestion to turn Xander into a villain. Anyway, I hope that you all enjoyed. Soundwave is just plain freakin' awesome in my own humble opinion, and it was fun writing him.

Character: Soundwave from the Transformers Generation 1 cartoon (1984)

Next Story: "I'll-Pay-You-When-I-Make-It-Big" Xander


	17. Chapter 17

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Hmmm, really don't have much to say right now so I think that I'll go straight to reviewer responses.

Firehedgehog: Sorry, I didn't mean to indicate that you should stop making suggestions. I just wanted you to realize that I wasn't going to use the series that you had suggested; I still appreciate the suggestions themselves though.

Alastar Unlife: Yes, I am familiar with DMC; however it's already been done so you won't see it here.

Joshua Richardson: You're welcome.

Michael: Unfortunately, Xander as Azrael has already been done, as has Xander as Kaine. And as most of my reviewers know, I try very hard to use only original, never before done ideas.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura: I haven't really played the GTA series and as such I'm not truly familiar with the characters and could not hope to do them justice.

Some Random Guy: You are correct sir!

Brian: To my eternal sorrow, I have not played MGS3... Right now I'm crying on the inside at the thought of not having played one of Kojima-sama's masterpieces. However, I do like the idea of making another villainous Xander; let me see what I can come up with.

Adrelliehs: I too am an avid Megatokyo fan, and while the thoughts of PH3AR 'Bots running rampant through the streets of Sunnydale makes me feel warm inside, I doubt that I'll write him as Largo. It's possible, but unlikely. Besides, if you're planning to write one then I wouldn't want to take another author's idea, you know? Though I'll definitely look forward to reading your "Xander dresses as Largo" fic when you come out with it.

stickzx: Yes, the 300 crossover will be continued as well; how does this strike you, the New International Watchers, Slayers, and Spartans Council? Xander with Tara, maybe, time will tell. As for Xander becoming independent of the Scoobies, what about Crying Xanman, the Trigun crossover, and the last story with him as Soundwave? Bourne has already been done, and I might consider a WoW character although it wouldn't necessarily be a pally.

snowecat: We know that the Transformers are at least millions of years old since they crash landed on Earth back in the Prehistoric Era, and the war had probably been raging for thousands of years before that. As for power, something that I didn't mention in the fic itself is one of the other reasons why Soundwave is so important to the Decepticon forces; namely, he has the ability to CREATE energon cubes. So long as he has plenty of electricity or another power source of some sort that he can convert into energon, he can make a limitless supply of energon cubes.

Harry2: Sorry, I probably won't do Punisher and I'm not familiar with the other two. Any other suggestions or ideas?

Geez, this took up an entire page. Thanks for the reviews everybody! Enjoy the latest story.

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I could be charging you guys money for this, so I think it's obvious that I don't.

Story 17: "I'll-Pay-You-When-I-Make-It-Big" Xander

Xander had noticed the character on the poster in Jonathan's room when he'd stopped by the other boy's house last week. It was an anime character, a tall, somewhat lean and gangly yet muscular man with bright red hair, a star tattoo on one shoulder, three slash-like scars down one cheek, and even more scars running down his bare arms. The man was dressed in a black muscle shirt and black pants, with a white utility belt running around his waist and white gauntlets covering the backs of his gloved hands. Both hands held a weapon, one holding an ordinary looking black handgun while the other held a brown colored weapon unlike anything Xander had ever seen before. But what really caught Xander's attention was the cocky grin and confident posture; this was a man who knew what he was capable of and knew that if he ever faced something that he couldn't handle then he'd just have to push a little harder and put his trust in luck.

Intrigued, he'd had Jonathan tell him a little more about the character in the poster, and before long Xander was hooked. So when Snyder conscripted him into escorting trick-or-treaters for the night, he already had a costume in mind. He'd just picked up some clothes from the thrift store and had gotten a good deal on a plastic ray gun, red hair dye, fake scars, and a temporary tattoo from the new costume shop in town. However while Xander was in Ethan's, he didn't notice somebody he knew pick up a light blue cloak and take it up to the register.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Gene Starwind, captain of the grappler starship Outlaw Star and professional outlaw, bounty hunter, bodyguard, goods transporter, treasure hunter, and handy man by trade, gawked wide eyed at the insanity all around him. Clutching his head, the young spacer roared in frustration. "ARRRRRGGGHHHH!!! JUST WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS PLACE?! DAMN IT, I THOUHGT THAT I WAS OUT OF THE GALACTIC LEYLINE!"

A soft, quiet voice from behind him broke Gene out of his ranting. "Gene?"

The outlaw spun around to see a small, slender woman wearing a large blue poncho over her torso staring up at him with large, doe-like eyes. Her skin was a somewhat pale, creamy color and she seemed almost fragile, like a China doll. Immediately, Gene's rage bled away, and he raised a hand to the woman's cheek, stroking it softly. A gentle smiled adorned her lips, and she closed her eyes as she leaned into his touch. The scarred and tattooed man smiled, a little smile that was filled with a tenderness few would have thought him capable of. Her name was a mere whisper on his lips, and he breathed it out with an almost reverent tone. "Melfina."

Melfina opened her eyes then, smiling widely at him. "Yes, Gene?"

"Melfina, do you know where this place is? Are we in the Galactic Leyline again or something?"

The dark haired woman just shook her head, taking his large, calloused hand within both of her tiny, slender ones. "No, I don't know where this place is Gene, but it's not the Leyline. Remember, I was designed and made to interface with the power of the Leyline. Even though I'm not the Maiden of the Leyline anymore, I'd know if this place was a creation of the Leyline or not. And I assure you, it isn't."

Gene nodded, carefully withdrawing his hands from hers and unholstering his signature weapon, the Caster gun. "Well then, we'd better find the ship, don't you think? It's probably close by."

Melfina nodded cheerfully, then followed after Gene as he walked out into the night, staying close by his side.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Now what must be understood was that Janus was a god of balance and symmetry more than simply a god of chaos. He was male and female, good and evil, chaos and order in a near perfect balance. One side of his divinity could not exist without the other. It was this nature of one not being able to exist without the other that would prove to most affect Xander and the girl who'd dressed as Melfina.

Melfina was a bio-android, something of a cross between a robot and a clone yet so much more. She had been carefully designed and created for two functions. Firstly, she'd been made in order to interface with the Galactic Leyline, an artifact left behind by an ancient and highly advanced race that possessed powers comparable to that of a god. Her second function was to serve as the living navigational guidance system for the XGP15A-II experimental grappler ship, or the Outlaw Star as it's crew referred to it as.

Melfina had been brought into existence by Ethan Rayne's spell, and she was part of the Outlaw Star. Thus by the rules and properties that Janus existed by, if Melfina existed then the ship by definition had to exist as well. So it was that after a quick twenty minute search, Gene and Melfina were able to locate the red colored starship that more often than not served as their home, and boarded it to the greetings of the ship's computer AI, Gillian. After a few minutes of preparation, they were ready to launch and just a few minutes after that they were soaring into the lower atmosphere.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Xander came to a start as he found himself behind the controls of a starship. Above him, Gillian's voice rang out. "Oh dear. You are in the same position as Gene, yet you don't appear to be Captain Starwind. However, you are in the pilot's seat and as such it is only logical that you are a qualified crew member. Please state your name for the crew records."

"Uh, Xander Harris. I guess that I'm the new captain."

"Very good Captain Harris. And the young lady in Miss Melfina's navigational interface chamber?"

Turning to see what the cultured computer was talking about, Xander turned around in his chair only to feel his jaw drop as his eyes bulged from their sockets. The chamber was where Melfina hooked her synapses into the ship's systems, transforming herself into a living computer. There was only one catch. In order to properly interface, Melfina needed to be completely naked as was the girl that had dressed as her now, and the chamber did have transparent observation windows on it's front.

"EEK! For God's sake Dork Boy, turn back around!"

Promptly doing so with a glazed look in his eyes, Xander couldn't help but allow himself a wide grin. Getting a full frontal view of Cordelia Chase completely stark naked was more than enough to let Xander know that God existed, and that he loved Xander Harris. He was beginning to see what Jesse had seen in the girl. Maybe he should ask her out some time?

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The mayor's body twisted and contorted until he finally transformed into a sixty foot long snake demon, hissing in hunger as it quickly swallowed Principal Snyder. Suddenly the hissing of the demon and the screaming of the students was drowned out by the roar of engines. A large red rocket ship appeared in the darkened skies overhead, two arm like extensions protruding from it's sides. The arms lunged down, grasping the squirming demon in their pincer-like grips. With a sudden jerk, the arms pulled the snake in two and sent the separate halves flying in different directions. Then a rotating cannon on top of the cockpit swiveled to face the stunned vamps that had just entered the school grounds, and opened fire.

From behind the controls, Xander smirked in satisfaction. Things were just so much easier to deal with when you had a spaceship! And they hadn't even needed to blow up the school like Giles had originally planned, although Xander would admit to some disappointment that such an action was no longer needed. It was then that two bare, wet female arms wrapped around his neck from behind, causing his smirk to widen and develop more than just a hint of lust. "Cordy, aren't you supposed to still be in the chamber helping with navigation?"

"Shut up dork, we don't need navigation while in a hover. Besides, we graduated, we survived, and I'm in the mood to celebrate."

Grinning, Xander spun around to capture his girlfriend and fellow crew member's lips with his, reaching out to brace himself against the surrounding consoles as the kiss deepened and became more passionate. It was then he heard a beep as his fingers accidentally pressed a button, and then there was the unmistakable sound of a missile launching from the ship followed by an explosion. Breaking away from Cordy, Xander stared in open-jawed shock at the sight of the school burning to the ground, most of it already reduced to rubble by the missile impact. Turning back to his equally shocked girlfriend, Xander gave an extremely sheepish grin. "Oops?"

Well, at least they'd gotten to blow up the school after all.

End Story 17: "I'll-Pay-You-When-I-Make-It-Big" Xander

Notes: I struggled all day trying to get this out and I'm still not fully satisfied with what I managed to write. Writer's block is not my friend. I hope that you all are still able to glean enjoyment from this somewhat poor effort.

Character: Gene Starwind and Melfina from the Outlaw Star manga (1997) and anime (1998)

Next story: Three Cheers for Fervus and Twinkies!


	18. Xanderween Special Interlude 1

**31 Days of Xanderween Special Interlude Chapter**

NightHunterMGS' notes: A great big thank you to CervantesOsis for letting me post their fic in my series. This is an enjoyable read in my opinion, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of Cervantes work. Once again, this stroy is not mine, it was written by CervantesOsis and I'm simply posting it as a special interlude chapter in my own series.

-NightHunterMGS

**[A/N/.../ denotes Japanese translated speech.**

Xander Jeagerjaques

Xander groaned as he stared at the empty weapons bin. _So much for getting a toy gun_, he thought. He sighed, wondering whether anything else would be in his price range. He saw Buffy fawning over a dress from the 18th century, and held back another groan. _What does she see in Deadboy, anyway?_ Willow was holding a ghost costume, and this time he sighed. Willow was hiding, as usual, for Halloween, it seemed.

This did not help him with his predicament. He glanced around, and then spotted something. It was a bright blue wig, and it was attached to a white Japanese style outfit, complete with sword. A small bag of other accessories was attached to the wig. _Wait_, he thought. _That wig looks familiar..._He then grinned as he remembered. "Oh yeah, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques," he said aloud. Xander was secretly a fan of Bleach in general, and the 'badass' characters (including Grimmjow) in particular.

"Found something you like?"

"Gyah!" Xander yelped, and spun around.

The speaker was a British man, wearing oddly American clothes. He seemed younger than Giles, and had some sort of glint in his eye that wasn't there with the librarian.

"Word of advice, pal? In this town, sneaking up on people like that is of the bad," Xander said, getting his breathing under control.

"My apologies," the man replied. "Ethan Rayne, I'm the proprietor of this establishment." He offered his hand, and Xander took it, deciding he wasn't too bad a sort. "Now, I noticed you looking at one of the cosplay outfits I have. Perhaps you'd like that?"

Xander started to protest. "Oh, no, I don't have that much money and..."

"Not to worry. Tell you what; you can have it for ten dollars, so long as you tell people where you got it."

Xander blinked at the generosity, before he grinned and said, "Sold!"

Xander stood at the entrance to Buffy's house, and checked his costume for any problems. The door opened, letting him look upon a vision of absolute loveliness. "Buffy! Lady of Buffdom, Duchess of Buffonia, I am in awe! I completely renounce spandex." Buffy had gone in the 18th century noblewoman costume, and now that he saw her wearing it, he had to admit, it looked drop-dead gorgeous.

Giggling, Buffy attempted a slight British accent as she said, "Why thank you, kind sir." Then she looked over his costume. "You're a fan of Bleach, aren't you?" He wore a white open jacket, leaving himself bare-chested. On his stomach was a black circle, matching one on his back in the same position. A white set of flowing pants covered his legs, and his feet were in black tabi socks and straw sandals. On his left hip was a sword, and on his jaw, he had attached a white mask fragment. He had also put in the blue contacts, and the blue markings near his eyes. The wig completed the look.

"Yeah, I am," he said, trying a Grimmjow-style grin. The effect – in Buffy's opinion – was both somewhat creepy, and hot at the same time.

"Well, you look absolutely fabulous, Xander," Buffy smiled. Turning towards the stairs, she added, "But wait'll you see-" she broke off, seeing Willow in the ghost outfit.

"Hi," the very shy redhead managed to say.

"-Casper," Buffy finished, somewhat petulantly.

"Hey, Wills, that's a nice 'Boo' you've got there," Xander joked, referring to the word 'Boo!' on the ghost costume.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques groaned as he got up, making a mental note to kill Ulquiorra or whichever Arrancar had knocked him out. Then his spirit-senses kicked in, and he noticed something almost immediately. Snapping his blue eyes open, he looked around._ This...I'm back in the living world? How?_ he thought. He started probing for the presence of shinigami, and was surprised that none were nearby. His surprise quickly faded into boredom. _Damn...means I won't have too much fun, then._ An unusual presence behind him made him spin around.

The girl yelped and fell over, perhaps because he'd unconsciously emitted some of his spirit pressure. Then he noted that she'd fallen _through_ a solid object. _What the…? A Plus? Impossible! She doesn't have a chain of destiny!_ That was foremost in Grimmjow's mind. That was pushed aside, however, as he grinned and began stalking toward her. _Might make for a nice snack, though_, he thought. He was interrupted when the girl stuttered something out in an unfamiliar language.

/Sorry, can't understand what yer saying, girlie,/ he said, continuing forward. The redhead blinked, and then responded in fluent, if accented, Japanese.

/You...you're not Xander, are you?/ The girl seemed very frightened now.

Her words made Grimmjow blink, however. _Xander? What is that, a shortening of Alexander, or something?_ His trademark manic grin turned into a frown. _She thought she knew me, but I've never seen her before, not when I was alive, or as a Hollow._ For a rare occasion, he decided to talk, rather than just eat her.

/What made you think I was this...Xander?/ he asked.

The girl blinked and then her eyes widened. /Omigod, Iknowwhathappenedwe'vebeenturnedintoourHalloweencostumes-/ She was interrupted when Grimmjow grabbed her face, covering her mouth.

/Slow down before you give me an aneurysm,/ he said, head spinning from the few seconds of babble. He tried to piece together what she'd said at hyper talk. He found one concept fairly easy to deal with. /Costumes? Is there some sort of festival going on or something?/

She nodded, and continued at a much slower rate. /It's Halloween night./ At his blank look, she clarified. /All Hallows Eve?/ Seeing comprehension, she continued. /Here in the United States, we have a sort of festival called Halloween, where people dress in costumes for a night./

Grimmjow arched an eyebrow. /A festival on All Hallows Eve? Someone must have been rather twisted./ He shook his head. /So what kind of costumes are you talking about?/

/All kinds,/ the redhead replied. /Ghosts, witches, vampires, goblins...virtually anything you can think of./

Grimmjow nodded. /So there's no particular theme, eh? Just everyone dressing up?/ The girl nodded. Grimmjow then turned to another part of the babble of before. /What do you mean, we've been turned into our costumes? I hadn't even heard of this festival before tonight./

The girl sighed, and explained. /Um, please don't kill me, I'm just the messenger girl here, but my best friend Xander Harris...was dressed up as you. Here in this universe, you're nothing more than a fictional character in an anime and manga./

Grimmjow blinked at that, then drew his zanpakutou partially. Peering into it, he saw that his face was indeed much different than he remembered in terms of structure. He still had the remnants of his mask on his jawbone, and he had the right color eyes and markings, but there the similarities ended. He summed this up in one word: "_Shimatta!_"

The redhead had stepped back in the face of the angry Espada. /Er...Mr. Jeagerjaques?/ she asked tentatively. The blue haired Arrancar muttered various profanities in different languages. Then he looked up.

/So, how did this happen?/ he asked, his face stonily calm for someone who had been rather angry not two seconds before.

/My guess would be magic spell, although I'm not too sure,/ the girl replied. /Oh, uh, by the way, my name's Willow./

/I'm guessing you know my name, considering you called me 'Mr.' Jeagerjaques,/ Grimmjow said dryly. /Well, then, Willow, shall we go find out what's going on?/

Xander breathed, and exhaled. Then he opened his eyes and looked again. Nope, there was still a hole in his stomach. Feeling his head, he felt the blue hair and now quite real mask fragment. He summed this up in one word: "SHIT!"

The Judge was disintegrated by the blast of red light. Drusilla attempted to flee, but a blue white beam following a call of "_Byakurai!_" pierced her chest, and she turned into ashes.

Across from them, Xander and Buffy grinned at each other. Xander's was a Grimmjow-style manic grin, whilst Buffy's was of a soon-to-be-satisfied predator. Both of them disappeared (Xander with a brief static sound, Buffy with more of a swish) and reappeared in front of Angelus, who had been attempting to flee. Buffy already had her next spell ready, as she intoned/Path of Destruction, the 31st: Red Flame Cannon!/ The red fireball impacted on Angelus before he could get out a word.

Buffy lowered her arm, and leaned against Xander as he put his arm around her in a comforting gesture. Ever since Halloween, Xander had become a force to be reckoned with. A flash of blue hair was typically the last thing fledgling vampires would see, if not a brief glimpse of blonde. Xander had trained Buffy in how to use her own immense spirit energy, and she had become rather adept at the Shinigami arts. She often used _shunpo_ to great effect, and was also talented at _kidou_. Kendra, during her brief stay, had been taught some of the basics as well.

Now Buffy had had to use her powers to kill someone wearing the face of a loved one. She sighed, and gathered up the ashes that had been Angelus. Xander stood off to the side, and swore silently: _No one will hurt ANY of my girls like this again. If they do, they will face the wrath of Xander "Grimmjow" Jeagerjaques_.

**[A/N My first attempt at YAHF. A disclaimer is now in order: I do not own the Buffyverse (don't rightly know who does these days). I also do not own the character Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, or Bleach, or any related things (that honor goes to the God, Tite Kubo). So, what did you all think? Good, bad, ugly? Let me know! PM me or send me an email. (Remember, this work is mine, CervantesOsis, NOT the author of the rest of this collection.)**


	19. Story 18

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Bah, I'm just going to go straight to reviewer responses again.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura: Nice idea, but probably won't happen.

Warringer: Not familiar with girl genius, do know a bit about Kane so maybe.

Firehedgehog: Sorry, haven't seen those series.

Alastar Unlife: You're kidding, right? I'm a devoted Starcraft fan and have been planning a Starcraft crossover since the beginning. As for the story I mentioned, I can't remember the title but if I come across it again I'll let you know.

Sorry to those whose reviews I didn't respond to this time, I just need to get on with the fic before I lose access to the computer.

Disclaimer: (singing to MC Hammer's Can't Touch This) Neh,eh,eh... Eh,eh... Eh,eh.. Don't own 'em.

Story 18: Three Cheers for Fervus and Twinkies!

"Oh, Willow! Just look at this dress! Isn't it gorgeous?"

"Yeah Buffy, it looks absolutely..."

"Stupid."

The two girls of the Scooby trio turned to stare at their group's male member, their incredulous looks clearly saying "What?!" Xander just snorted. "Hey, I might be getting straight D's in history, but even I know that noblewomen from that time were little more than well trained, semi-educated brainless baby machines whose only purpose in life was to snag a rich or influential husband. So much more women's lib, eh?"

Buffy was more than just a little irked by her best guy friend's criticism of her intended costume choice. "Oh really, MISTER HARRIS? Then what, pray tell do YOU think a liberated woman should wear, hmm?"

In a moment of near divine intuition, Xander realized that saying spandex would probably get him put into traction. Eyes casting around for something, anything to let him know what he should say, his attention was finally caught by a display in the back. Wordlessly, Xander took Buffy's wrist in his hand and marched the surprised Slayer back towards the rear of the store, Willow following behind them. Coming to a stop, Xander gestured grandly towards his find. "How does that strike your fancy, Buff?"

It was a suit of gleaming partial plate armor, obviously designed for a woman since it was light and much too slim for a man. A red tunic and dark leather boots lay next to a black open faced helmet, all of the items looking noble and refined despite the obvious functionality behind them. And hanging from the wall was an enormous greatsword, nearly as long as Buffy was tall. The ensemble spoke of strength, dedication, and a regal sense of power. Buffy was struck speechless as she stared at it, dressing as some stupid noblewoman suddenly not seeming as appealing as it did just a few minutes ago. Xander nodded in satisfaction when he saw her expression; say goodbye to trying to impress Dead Boy. Coughing lightly into his hand, Xander began his little speech to close the deal and keep Buffy out of lace and ruffles for the night. "Now this looks to be a modified Joan of Arc costume, but it reminded me of a new game that Jono saw a beta test version of. It's set in this fantasy realm, and there's lots of different kinds of heroes, including an order of elite women warriors or something like that. Who knows, maybe we could all go as characters from the game together."

Buffy found herself nodding in agreement, eyes glued onto the shining surfaces of the armor. "That... actually sounds pretty good Xan. But what about Willow? And you? Don't you have a serious spending limit?"

The teenage boy stood in thought for a minute, before reaching out and grabbing Willow's wrist this time, causing her to squeak in surprise. Dragging her down the isle, he grabbed a Red Riding Hood cloak, a red dress, some face paint, and a white staff with a fake skull on the top. Handing it to Willow, he smiled. "A priestess. It'll get you out of the rut you're in always dressing as a ghost Wills, but at the same time you'll still be covered. Plus I know that you're getting interested in magic, and from what Jono told me it sounds like these characters are serious spell casters. C'mon Will? Please?"

Slowly, Willow also found herself nodding. Xander was right, she was becoming interested in magic and with that cloak she'd be very well covered. Anything was better than Buffy's suggestion of 'getting wild' in her opinion. But that still left one thing to settle before she and Buffy would agree to this. "What about you, Xander?"

Grimacing, Xander calculated his available funds as he went over all of the characters that he knew of from the game that Jonathan had told him about. In the end, he could come up with only one choice that was easily affordable. Assuring the girls that he'd be fine and he would have an appropriate costume, he went roaming through the isles and gingerly picked up a voodoo mask, green loincloth, leather leg wrappings, some green body paint, and what looked sort of like a ceremonial dagger. He just hoped that it wasn't too cold out tonight.

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Nara the Vindicator, paladin of Ardania and devout worshiper of the god Dauros, the Law Keeper, brushed her blond hair out of her face before getting a firmer grip on her greatsword. Evil was on the approach, she could feel it. She'd trained since she was a little girl of just eight years old to become a paladin, training with the monks at the Temple of Dauros to strengthen her mind and will before strengthening her body amongst the warriors of the Warriors Guild. She was the ultimate weapon against the forces of evil, a beacon of righteousness and the absolute law of Dauros. There was an evil presence approaching her, and she was prepared for it.

Angel ran up the street, catching a glimpse of Buffy. Glad that she was safe, he walked towards her with arms outstretched, only to be stopped short by a wall of energy. And that's when he started feeling the pain as some sort of holy energies reached out to tear away at him, causing unspeakable damage. Buffy, or rather the character that Buffy had become, sneered down at him as he fell to his knees and his face contorted into the features of a vampire from the pain. "Were you so foolish as to think that I sensed not your approach, evil one? Foul vampire! You shall threaten the lands of Ardania no more! THE LAW OF DAUROS IS ABSOLUTE!"

Before he could even hope to speak through the pain her gleaming greatsword sliced through the air, and Angel fell into a pile of dust at the unknowing hands of the girl that he'd loved.

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Spike was grinning as he strolled through the chaotic streets of Sunnydale. This was neat! Now he just needed a little snack. Ah, there was a delectable looking morsel, hidden underneath layers of heavy red fabric. Taking a few swaggering steps over to her, he grasped the robed woman by the shoulder and spun her around so that he could see the look of fear on her face just before he drained her. "'Ello luv, I've got a terrible thirst... Oi! You're that bint that runs around with the Slayer! What's with the goth makeup, Red?"

Sister Darkspirit, priestess of the goddess of Death Krypta, curled her black painted lips into a coy smile. With her pale white face and the black eyeshadow surrounding her eyes, her face nearly looked like a skull. Her eyes glinted darkly as she regarded Spike, the wind whipping her robes against her slender body. She was both alluring and somewhat seductive, and yet utterly terrifying to behold at the same time. He voice was a deep, throaty rasp which served to frighten Spike even as it's innate seductiveness turned him on. "Are you prepared to flirt with death?"

Before he could respond, Spike felt something come over him. It was a deep compulsion, to serve and protect this woman even at the cost of his unlife. Even as he realized that his mind was being controlled, it was too late; he was hers now. Sister Darkspirit allowed her tiny smile to widen, pleased to have gained a vampire for a servant even if it was unlike other vampires that she'd seen and far weaker. Hmmm, perhaps she should create more servants to serve as her bodyguard? With a wave of her skull topped staff, half a dozen skeletons formed from the dust on the ground, armed with heavy clubs and arranged around her in a protective formation. Smiling her hauntingly beautiful yet frightening smile, the necromancer glided down the street, her skeleton retinue and Spike following along obediently.

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Meanwhile, in another part of Sunnydale, the various monsters stared in wide eyed wonder at the masked, barely clothed figure dancing wildly around a small pile of skins and bones laughing hysterically all the way. They might have attacked the dancing figure, if it weren't for the fact that just minutes ago they'd seen the feral man vanish right in front of their eyes, only to reappear in front of an approaching vampire and turn into a bear that stood nearly eight feet tall while down on all four legs. The vampire had not survived against the beast's teeth and claws, and soon dusted only for the beast to turn back into the masked man who promptly resumed his chaotic dance.

As he danced joyfully at the feeling of pure chaos hanging in the air, Placid Sea, cultist of Fervus, "The Face of Chaos" and god of the wild things of the mystical land of Ardania began to chant to his chaotic deity, his words high pitched and confusing. A sane man could go mad trying to understand it. Of course, few believed the cultists of Fervus to be sane men.

"Fervus! He of the Tooth and Claw!"

"Fervus! She of the Tangled Vine!"

"Fervus! With your ragged fur, and moist nose."

"Fervus! With gnarled root, and scaly bark."

"Fervus! With yellow eyes and prickly-prickly."

"Fervus! Mossy-mossy, wet and black."

"Fervus! Firy-wiry-willy-nilly."

"Fervus! I call to you on rock and hilly!"

As the cultist danced and chanted, green loincloth slapping against his thighs and masked face bobbing wildly, he was joined by several of the more animalistic transformed children, neighborhood pets, rats and mice from nearby alleys, and the local wildlife. They sensed that this dancing figure was in it's own way as much of a part of nature as they were, and they gladly fell under the sway of his spell. They would follow him, they would fight for him, and chaos would reign.

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Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, polishing his glasses as best he could with only one hand. "Very well, let me see if I can get this straight. Last night all three of you were transformed into fantasy heroes from a fictional, magical realm called Ardania. Buffy, you dressed as a paladin of the god of law, Dauros. You can shield yourself from harm now, and harm undead beings just by being close to them. In addition you have gained an amazing proficiency with the greatsword and an improved ability to sense evil presences and resist magic powers. Moreover, you dusted Angel last night."

Buffy nodded as she absentmindedly polished her greatsword, face stoic even as tears streaked down her cheeks. "Yes. I'm so sad Giles, but a part of me says that he was an undead monster that needed to be destroyed by the will of Dauros. And I'm sorry that I haven't taken my holy duties as the Slayer as seriously as I should have been. I assure you, that will change."

The Watcher sighed, not sure whether he should be pleased or disturbed by this change in his Slayer. Next, he turned to where Willow was sitting in meditation. Standing in the shadows behind her was Spike, whom Willow had kept them from dusting, ready to wait on her hand on foot if she should need him. Her pose was eerily calm and confident, as much of a change in the previously shy and timid girl as the heavy makeup that she still wore on her face. "And Willow, you dressed as a priestess of the goddess of death, Krypta. You now have the power to control undead creatures such as vampires like Spike, can animate a small army of skeletons, and drain the life straight out of an opponent in order to heal yourself and your minions. Am I correct?"

Willow nodded, her black lipped smile sending shivers down Giles' spine. "Yes. I never understood before, but death is so beautiful, so seductive. In death, all are equal and there is true justice. Yet an ignoble death is an offense to Krypta, and so she grants her gifts so that we may ensure that when death does come it honors her. Perhaps I shall go to her arms... another day, though."

Again Giles nodded, making a note to keep an eye on Willow in case she began indulging in self destructive behavior. Finally, he turned his eyes to Xander, the most changed of his charges. The boy was giggling to himself while he effortlessly threw dagger after dagger right into the bullseye of a training target, all the while apparently having an animated conversation with a chattering squirrel perched on his shoulder. Looking at the hint of madness in the boy's eyes, Giles had to resist the urge to go into his office and get quietly drunk. "And Xander, you dressed as a cultist of the god of chaos and nature, Fervus. You have developed an affinity for the use of daggers of all sorts, can transform into what you refer to as a hellbear, make yourself nearly invisible by the use of a camouflage spell, and control beasts and animals in much the same way that Willow can control undead. Does that sum things up?"

Xander just giggled and nodded, before looking up over his head staring wide eyed at something only he could see. "Ooooooohhhh! Pretty star!" Laughing in wild joy, Xander began prancing and dancing all about the library, giving an occasional shout of "Three cheers for Fervus!"

Yes, that bottle of brandy sitting in his office was looking very good to Giles right about now.

End Story 18: Three Cheers for Fervus and Twinkies!

Notes: Have to wrap this up, I've been called into work at the last minute. Later!

Character: Paladin, Priestess, and Cultist from Majesty: The Fantasy Kingdom Sim computer strategy game (2000)

Next story: Xander Sohma, the Dragon


	20. Story 19

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Ugh, sorry about missing yesterday's update, I was suddenly and unexpectedly struck down by a particularly nasty flu bug. I'm still pretty sick and as such sadly am not up to dealing with reviewer responses right now, but I'm going to at least try to get a chapter out so that I don't get too far behind. If any of you are praying people, please put a good word in with the big man upstairs for me.

Disclaimer: (singing to Barney theme) I no own, you no sue, 'cause what'll happen if you do, is that I'll take a shovel and beat your head into a stew, so won't you say that you won't sue.

Story 19: Xander Sohma, the Dragon

Xander cursed the troll that dared to try and pass himself off as an educator as he stomped into Ethan's costume shop. Not only did Snyder have the gall to recruit him for escort duty, but he'd specifically targeted Xander when he'd instructed the boy to 'dress as a role model'. Browsing the isles, the teen finally settled upon a doctor's stethoscope. He'd just borrow one of Uncle Rory's old suits and a white coat from the science lab, maybe a pair of reading glasses to add to the look. But still, this costume was going to blow. How interesting could a simple doctor be?

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Hatori Sohma, both member and family doctor of the wealthy and influential Sohma family, sighed in exasperation and lifted his left hand up to the portion of his face that was covered by his bangs. All around him chaos, confusion, and utter havoc reigned. If he didn't know any better than he'd swear that this was the work of his so-called best friends Shigure and Ayame. He just hoped that no girls stumbled into him or accidentally hugged him or anything else of that nature. He really didn't want to transform into his cursed state in this strange and unfamiliar place.

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Xander didn't curse or wail as he kept his right eye shut. Instead, he observed the situation calmly and clinically. He could barely see out of his left eye. It seemed as though the injury that had rendered Hatori Sohma partially blind in his left eye, the reason why he kept his hair long on that side of his face, had stayed with him past Halloween. Slightly frustrated but barely showing it from underneath his newly acquired icy mask, Xander breathed out a sigh and brushed the hair which had remained in Hatori's style back over his left eye. This would make slaying... difficult.

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Buffy was hanging onto the front of Xander's shirt, crying bitterly. Hours before, she'd killed Angel. Her first instinct had been to run, to run away to someplace where nobody knew that she was the Slayer and just live her life until she forgot all about Angel. But then she'd remembered about Xander, about what he could do now. So she'd went to the hospital where he was helping to take care of Willow, and that brought her to where she was now, sobbing her heart out in front of her best male friend. Careful not to embrace her but wanting to provide some comfort, Xander placed a hand on top of her head, his face composed into an icy calm mask as he spoke. "Are you sure about this, Buffy?"

Tears choking her words, Buffy nodded. "I-it h-h-hurts so bad, Xander. It... it hurts... to remember. I don't want to remember anymore. I... I want to forget. Make me forget, Xander."

Face softening just ever so slightly in compassion, Xander grasped Buffy's arms and gently guided her down until the both of them were kneeling on the floor. Extending his right hand, fingers outstretched, Xander pressed it lightly against the distraught Slayer's face. There was a pulse of energy and a flash of light, and then Buffy fell back to the ground. The shimmering of a tear in his eye for having done this to his best friend, Xander stood, stepped out of the door, and flagged down a nurse. "Nurse, Miss Summers has collapsed. Please find a spare bed for her until she regains consciousness. Also, I believe that the police might be looking for her for questioning. It would probably be best that she not be disturbed while under the hospital's care, wouldn't you agree?"

The nurse just nodded. There was just something about this young man and the way that he accorded himself around the hospital that made her instinctively give him the same sort of respect that she'd give to one of the doctor's. "Of course, Mister Harris."

Not bothering to correct her use of his name, Xander stepped back and let her get to work on getting Buffy into the bed next to Willow's. When she woke up, Buffy would have forgotten that Angel had ever existed.

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Xander smiled as the door opened to the Summers' home to reveal a brightly grinning Dawn. "Xander! Hey! Are you here to check up on my mom?"

Xander nodded in acknowledgment as he stepped past her and made his way up the stairs to Joyce Summers bedroom. Clinically friendly smile firmly in place, Xander knocked lightly on the door before entering, black doctor's bag in hand. He was probably the only medical professional in all of Sunnydale unafraid to make house calls. Although even if he didn't make them, he'd still do just about anything for this particular patient. Still smiling Xander took Joyce's wrist in his hand. "How are you doing today, Mrs. Summers?"

Joyce smiled somewhat weakly. "I'm fine Xander. I feel a lot better after the surgery."

Xander nodded as she spoke, carefully checking her over. After about a half an hour of close inspection, he was finally done. Letting his smile widen, Xander put his things back into his bag. "Well, everything seems to be in order although I'd like to get you back to the hospital for a brief period of observation. I'll see you later Mrs. Summers."

Closing the door behind himself, Xander's smile instantly fell off as he reached for his cell phone and dialed a number. "Doctor, this is Xander Harris. I'd like to get Mrs. Summers into the hospital immediately for further testing. I think that there might have been complications from her surgery, and just want to make sure that we haven't saved her from the tumor just to kill her in some other way."

The doctor on the other end sighed. Normally he wouldn't take demands or criticism of his hospital like this from a mere twenty-one year old intern who was still in medical school. But this was Alexander Harris. The boy was a medical prodigy, acting as if he had years of medical experience under his belt. If only he knew the truth behind Xander's seeming genius. "Alright, Mister Harris. I'll see to Mrs. Summers myself and make sure that she gets all of the best that we have to offer."

"Thank you doctor, I appreciate this." Hanging up, Xander made his way back down the stairs before he was hit by a flying glomp from a grateful Dawn Summers. "Thanks for taking such good care of my mom Xan... Oops. Heh, heh. Sorry, keep forgetting about the reason you don't like being hugged by girls and stuff."

Lying on the floor in the form of a seahorse, or a baby dragon as they were called in Japan, Xander breathed out a sigh of frustration as Dawn quickly picked him up and placed him in a fish tank kept on hand for situations just like this. The Sohma family curse that he'd inherited from his costume struck again. He just wondered why Hatori had to be the dragon of the Zodiac.

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"Ah, the One Who Sees, the healer with the heart of a dragon. You're already blind in one eye, perhaps I should put out the other?"

Struggling in Caleb's grasp, Xander brought up his hand and placed it against the murderous priest's face. With a pulse of energy and a flash of light, larger than any that either he or Hatori had ever caused before when erasing a person's memories, Xander began wiping Caleb's mind clean. The present, the past, the First, his fights with the Scoobies, his crimes against women, his teenage years, and his childhood; all of it was destroyed by Xander's purging of his brain. But the young doctor didn't stop there, reaching further and deeper until he reached the medulla. With another flash of light, Caleb forgot how to breathe. With the empowered priest dead, the Bringers soon fell to the Potentials and Scoobies and in the aftermath the Slayer Scythe was discovered. Maybe now, they had a chance.

End Story 19: Xander Sohma, the Dragon

Notes: Still sick so not going to add much here, hope my illness didn't affect the quality of my work. And if there are more typos than usual than I apologize; I'm currently typing this with plastic gloves on so that I don't spread my flu to anyone else who uses the computer or anything. Later.

Character: Hatori Sohma, the Dragon from Fruits Basket manga and anime (1999 manga, 2001 anime)

Next Story: Bampf Equals Barf


	21. Story 20

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Well it seems like I've kicked the flu bug, but it took a lot out of me. I'm also two days behind in my writing. As a result, the chapter will probably be on the short side as I struggle to catch back up to my scheduled deadlines. Sorry once again. However, here are reviewer responses again!

Infin1x: Yes, I didn't mean to fall into a rut there, but it just wound up happening. Fortunately with the help of my reviewers I think that I've managed to mix it up some.

Dargos: No to 1 because it would screw up the Halloween formula as the whole point is it's canon up until this point, and no to 2 because as you said it's already been done. But thanks for the suggestions.

Mountain King: (winces in embarrassment) Sorry, haven't watched Transformers seriously in nearly two decades, I'm a little fuzzy on some details. Plus I only watched the cartoon and the moment they killed off Optimus I was out of there and only came back after his return.

Anonymous Coward: Not familiar enough with X-com to do it justice.

Alaster Unlife: I actually kind of like rambling, so feel free to carry on. I am into Warcraft as well, the problem is I'm not sure whether to use Warcraft or Starcraft for this crossover anymore and now I'm also not sure which character to use. Any suggestions? Oh, and most importantly I found that DMC crossover fic I mentioned; it's called Devil's Dance and can be found on the C2 community Halloween along with this fic and others.

Sean Malloy-1: Harry Potter crossovers are a dime a dozen (besides my favorite HP character, Snape, has already been done), I refuse to touch One Piece ever since those "gentlemen" over at 4Kids got a hold of it, and as for Crying Freeman didn't I do that in the second chapter?

WBH21C: Nick Fury has already been done in an alternate universe fic called "Faith the Vampire Slayer" in which Faith takes Buffy's place in the series.

stickzx: I'm sorry if I let down your expectations, I just really wanted them to be in those costumes as I felt that they suited them nicely plus I'm trying to play around with different styles of YAHF. I can assure you, Xander will be the only one who has a costume change from now on.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura: Predator crosses have been done before and I really don't feel like it plus I'm trying to add in a few more "normal" costumes. As you'll note a few of my costumes have no special powers, they're just regular human beings who just happen to have advanced training or equipment, or in the case of Keiichi Morisato a divine connection. Punisher is nice, but I already have a couple of Marvel characters planned and I just don't feel any sparks flying from this idea; it might happen but it's unlikely. And finally, much like the Predator and Frank I just don't feel any sparks coming from the idea of Ash. Sorry.

Harry2: ALRIGHT MAN! You got it! Yatta! Yep, we're gonna be seein' the fuzzy dude this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or any other series I use in this series.

Story 20: Bampf Equals Barf

Xander groaned when he saw the entire toy weapons bin completely cleaned out except for a few plastic fencing swords. Well there went the whole soldier idea. Now he'd have to just buy a more expensive, generic costume. It looked like the superhero section was still pretty well stocked. He could probably find a costume that he wouldn't be totally embarrassed to wear. But which superhero out of the hundreds out there should he go as?

At that moment fate seemed to decide to send Xander Harris a personal calling card as the chain that held his ever present crucifix broke while he was leaning over the mostly empty weapon bin, sending the cross falling down on top of three plastic fencing swords. Looking down at the cross lying amongst the swords then turning back to look at the racks of superhero costumes, the teen grinned. Looks like he had an idea for a costume after all.

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"Wie im Namen des Gottes ist dieser Platz? Was tue ich hier?" What in God's name is this place? What am I doing here? A boy with dark hair looked around in confusion, shirt and jacket whipping about along with his long bangs while light glinted off of a large metallic watch on his wrist. A ragged brown trench coat also hung around his shoulders, and within it's depths one could make out the pommels of several swords. An elaborate rosary, the sort usually only owned by the priesthood was unconsciously clenched in his hand. In his confusion, he reverted to his native German language.

"... Und wer sind ich genau?" "... And who exactly am I?"

Oh, he knew his name. He was Kurt Wagner. The problem was, he didn't know WHICH Kurt Wagner he was. Memories from dozens of extremely similar yet different lives assailed him. Being rescued from the mob in that small German town by a bald headed man in a wheelchair and being asked to join the Professor's X-men. Living quietly in the seclusion of a German monastery until the day three skiers that he would later know as Logan, Gambit, and Rogue, who'd been caught in an avalanche and were brought into the monastery for care and forced him to expose himself to the outside world. Coming to the United States as a teenager to attend Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters and going to Bayville High amongst mountains worth of teenage angst. Becoming ordained as a priest. Founding Excalibur. Marrying Wanda Maximoff, his daughter Talia, and replacing Charles Xavier as leader of the X-men. There were even scattered images of him being mind controlled into trying to kill the president, numerous self-inflicted scars of penance, and helping the X-men save the world from a rogue military commander bent on mutant genocide.

Dozens of different lives, each unique and different. But at the same time, some things remained constant. Xavier's Institute and the X-men. His mother, Mystique. His sister, Rogue. And above all, his faith. More than anything else, in all of the lives that he remembered he always had that to guide him.

Deciding to get to safety for now and to sort out these memories later, Kurt reached up to his wrist and revealed his true form as a blue furred, slender, demon-like man dressed in what looked very much like a circus acrobat's costume. Leaping to the nearest house, he effortlessly crawled up the side and came to a perch upon the rooftop. Yellow eyes piercing the night even as he blended into the shadows, he finally spotted what looked like a good place to rest and get his thoughts in order. Implanting the image of the place he saw in his mind and focusing on it, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke with the stench of brimstone. Nightcrawler was on the move.

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Jessica Harris blinked herself awake when she heard the soft closing of the kitchen door. She might be a drunk and a poor excuse for a parent, but that didn't mean that she didn't love her son. She'd noticed that Alexander had been gone for the entire night, and even being a lush she'd lived in this town long enough to know that if someone was out all night then they probably wouldn't be seen alive again. So she'd refrained from her morning bottle of Jack and sat in the kitchen while Tony was passed out in the living room. Now it seemed to be a few hours later and she'd probably passed out from the lingering booze that was nearly always in her system, but it seemed like her boy was home. "Alex?"

Silence, then a rough voice that for some reason was flavored by the hint of a German accent but that was still unmistakable as Xander's. "Mutti? I mean, mom? Vhat are you still doing up?"

Xander's mother turned to look at her son. He looked normal enough and didn't seem hurt, but there was some sort of sadness in his eyes that she hadn't seen before last night. "You were gone all night, Alex. In this town? I... Was worried."

Xander smiled, a bitter little grin, before seemingly automatically moving over and giving her a hug. Jessica stiffened somewhat at this unexpected contact; Alex had stopped hugging her after his ninth birthday when Tony beat him for whining about the clowns and she was too drunk to stop it as usual. His voice was thick with emotion now as he spoke. "You know, mother... I vas always embarrassed by you, angry at you. I hate vhen you drink. But last night opened up my eyes a little bit. You're not the vorst mother that I could have, not by a longshot. Despite everything, I forgive you. And more importantly, I love you, mutti."

Placing a tender kiss at a shocked Jessica's temple, Xander ended the embrace then fled upstairs. Finally in the privacy of his room, Xander sighed as he was looking at his reflection in the mirror. Out of the presence of his mother, his accent thickened noticeably. "Vell, zat vas unexpected. I vunder 'ow long it can last, zough?"

Reaching up to his wrist, he pressed a button on the holowatch. Immediately the image of Xander Harris faded away to show the image of a teenage Nightcrawler roughly Xander's age. It was only a matter of time before the watch would break with no way to repair it through current technological means. And when that happened, Jessica Harris would sadly have to lose her son. It was for her own good, right? After all, ignorance is bliss.

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The library doors locked and window blinds drawn, Xander sat amongst his friends in his true form, the holowatch turned off for the moment. It had taken some getting used to, but after a while Buffy no longer had the urge to decapitate him whenever she saw him. Right now, everybody was doing something to better prepare for slaying; Buffy was training, Willow was researching, Giles was doing Watcher things, and Oz was sharpening stakes. As for Xander, he was busy making the sign of the cross in front of a bottle of water, several cases of the stuff next to him. "I hereby bless zee in ze name uf ze Lord. Amen."

It was so helpful that Nightcrawler had been a priest in many of his incarnations; instant living holy water factory baby!

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"No weapon forged can..."

Suddenly there was a loud bampf sound, and Xander was perched on the Judge's back. Instantly his hands and tail, each holding a stake, lashed out and let go at their targets. As Angelus, Dru, and Spike dusted Xander disappeared in another cloud of sulfurous smoke, this time taking the Judge with him. After several teleports across the Californian desert, they were finally at the destination that Xander had spent the better part of two days engraving into his mind; that being twenty feet directly over the melting pool of the Los Angeles Steel Works twenty-nine miles away from Sunnydale. Jumping from the Judge to the nearby rafters, Xander lay down tiredly on them while the demon plummeted into the molten metal. Boy was he ever pooped. Now hopefully he could keep his Twinkies down; bampfing was not kind to the stomach.

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Tara stared in fear at the vampire stalking closer to her. She'd just moved to Sunnydale yesterday, how could something like this happen? Then there was a bampf sound and the stench of brimstone, and the vamp was dust. Standing before her was a blue furred demon, but looking into it's eyes Tara saw nothing but kindness, joy, and mirth with a hint of underlying sadness. She somehow knew that this was a man, not a demon, a man who like her knew what it was like being seen by others as something inhuman or demonic. His aura called to her, drew her in, and she responded.

Grinning playfully, the man-demon bowed theatrically with all the pomp and gusto of a seasoned performer. "Guten Abend, Fräulein. I am Xander Harris, priest, swordsman, circus acrobat, and general clown. Zey know me in ze Munich circus as ze Amasing Nightcrawler... alzough not really. And vat fair damsel 'as zis humble knight had ze honor of rescuing?"

Xander grinned as the gorgeous blond blushed and shyly introduced herself as Tara. Ah yes, even in this life chicks still dug the fuzzy dude!

End Story 20: Bampf Equals Barf

Notes: Crap! This took too long! I'm seriously behind schedule! Stupid flu throwing me off of my game! Gah!

Character: Nightcrawler from the X-men series of comics, cartoons, movies, games, etc. (1975)

Next story: Copycat Xander


	22. Story 21

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date, no time to say hello, goodbye, I'm late, I'm late, I'm late! Gotta slap this together right quick and in a hurry then get it out! Need to play catch up if I'm going to have thirty-one whole fics done before the end of October!

Disclaimer: I have none of the owning!

Story 21: Copycat Xander

Xander sighed in frustration. He had no idea what he should dress as for Halloween. He certainly didn't want to go as something as boring and generic as a soldier! Deciding to just collect various odds and ends and throw them together into a unique costume, the teenager started wandering the isles. By the time he got back to the cash register, he had a flak jacket, a silver wig with wild hair, a cloth mask like one used by a robber, a headband with a metal plate on it, a couple of weird plastic throwing knives, some fingerless gloves, and a blank book with an orange cover. Maybe he could make a decent costume out of this.

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Kakashi Hatake surveyed the surrounding area with his single exposed eye, shoulders slumped and posture slouched. But despite his apparent laziness, the ninja was alert and ready to respond to the slightest provocation. He didn't know where he was, and a brief exposure of the Sharingan eye implanted in his left eye socket revealed that this was no genjutsu. Deciding to lay low until he could figure out where he was or somebody he knew found him, he took out his infamous little orange book to pass the time. His perverted giggles were cut off by a feminine cry of desperation. "XANDER!"

Looking up from his book, Kakashi's eye widened as he got an eyeful of the redhead approaching him. Looking down at the book, he looked back up at the girl then down to the book again. He was right! She was dressed exactly like Misha was in chapter eight when she seduced the young and innocent Aiko into a threesome with her and her boyfriend! Looking to the heavens, Kakashi let tears water in his eye as he expressed his sincere thanks. "Arigatou, Kami-sama." Now he just hoped that this girl was as much fun as Misha was in the books, and that she at least knew what a sixty-nine position was.

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The next day when people asked him why his left eye was covered by an eye patch, Xander either mentioned the virtue of not running around with sticks, or he'd just give the person a bored look and ask, "Did you say something?" Needless to say this 'cool, hip attitude' as one seriously out of date teacher put it combined with Xander's improved wardrobe quickly elevated him above the position of school laughingstock. Although nobody could figure out why he seemed so insistent on keeping his lower face covered with the aid of a white surgical mask as his excuse of allergies just wasn't believable coming out of his mouth for some reason.

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Snyder was fuming when Xander finally walked into the sparsely populated classroom. Who the hell showed up forty-five minutes late for their own detention? And to have the gall of giving some lame excuse such as 'I got lost on the road of life'! Now the boy was standing around lazily, reading some book and giggling like a perverted little girl. Finally having enough, Snyder got up from his desk and marched over to where Xander was paying him no attention, every other eye in the classroom firmly latched onto the coming confrontation. The little troll ground his teeth together when Xander didn't look up at his approach; such blatant disrespect! "Mister Harris! Perhaps you could tell all of us just what is so fascinating that you're actually taking the effort to read it, hmmm?"

Xander finally looked up, his single eye lazily regarding the fuming educational dictator. "Hmmmm? You say something, Principal Snyder?"

As a few of the detention classroom's braver occupant's failed to stile some amused chuckles, Snyder finally snapped. "HARRIS! Give me that book now or I'll see you expelled!"

"Oh, you wanted to take a peek! Well why didn't you say so? Here."

Taking the open book from Xander's hands, Snyder read a few lines before his eyes practically bulged right out of his head and he passed out onto the floor. Curious, one of the male students stood up and took the orange bound book from Snyder's unconscious hand. Reading a few lines himself, he promptly went as red as a fire engine and a trickle of blood sprang from his nose. His shout of exclamation let everyone in the next five surrounding classrooms know exactly what was contained within those pages. "HOLY SHIT! This has got to be the kinkiest porno I have ever read! Way to go Harris!"

And the legend of Xander Harris continued to grow and bloom within the halls of Sunnydale High.

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"Fools! No weapon forged can harm..."

"RAIKARI!"

Angelus only had one word to sum up his feelings as Xander Harris sprang at them with godlike speed that would make a Slayer green with envy, furiously red left eye exposed and a sphere of condensed lightning in his hand. "Shit."

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It was no use, Glory was too strong. She'd even recovered from the Raikari, Xander's strongest technique, and the Sharingan could barely keep track of her movements. The other Scoobies didn't stand a chance. There was only thing that he could do now to have any hope of keeping Glory away from Dawn, even if using it could damn him. He just hoped that it worked.

Standing between the hell goddess and the others, Xander spoke over his back to his comrades. "Buffy, take Dawn and the others and get out of here. I'm going to have to use my final resort to stop this bitch."

Eyes wide, Buffy nodded and began pushing everybody else out the back door. Haughty and arrogant, Glory strode forward as Xander stood before her, one hand held up to his face. "Pathetic ant, you have nothing that can..."

Then she was stopped in the middle of her sentence as Xander ripped away his mask, fully exposing his face as he waited for Glory's inevitable reaction. Instantly the hell goddess stopped, eyes going wide as she couldn't help but stare. Then her eyes turned into hearts, and a line of drool was coming from her mouth as her lips curved into a dazed smile. Before he knew it, the pseudo ninja and inheritor of Kakashi's devastatingly powerful looks was thrown over the blonde's shoulder and the two were racing off to the goddess' private chambers.

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Glory panted, even her divine stamina spent after the activities that had been taking place for nearly half a day straight now. Who knew that mortal activities could feel so good? And what a man for a mortal this Xander person was! Powerful, intelligent, witty and cunning, and with an entire encyclopedia of sexual techniques memorized! Why take the Key and go back home when she could start up her own brood right here?

Turning to her lover with sparkles in her eyes, Glory's voice was husky with desire that overrode even her pride as a goddess. "I want to have your babies."

Lying beside her, Xander just smirked in satisfaction. It looked like the god of sex had won the day again.

End Story 21: Copycat Xander

Notes: Yay! As my sister would put it, "Kakashi is the shmex!"

Character: Kakashi Hatake from the anime/manga Naruto (1999 manga, 2002 anime)

Next story: Eternal Soldier Boy


	23. Story 22

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: The idea for this one struck me like a bolt out of the blue, and I like it.

bandgsecurityaw: I can't seem to find it anymore, sorry.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura: - sweatdrops - Actahla's Bane by DhampyrX2; it's been done.

Reikson: Someone did Kakashi already? Damn! I know that he's been written as Sausuke, Itachi, a random Konoha nin, and so on but I didn't know that Kakashi had been done already. Which fic?

snowecat: Consider that statement... A Kakashi-influenced Xander actually TRAIN people?

Disclaimer: My petition for ownership has been denied again, so I still own nothing.

Story 22: Eternal Soldier Boy

The fatigues that Xander was keeping the the basement had gone moldy, making them totally unusable for his plans. However, he could still go as a soldier. He'd just gotten out his grandfather's war trunk and aired out the uniform that he'd been wearing during the Battle of the Bulge. Now he was at Ethan's looking for a proper weapon, one that an American GI back in WWII would have carried. The male Scooby found this in the form of a model Thompson that even had a few removable clips; one of the fake clips had been damaged by pretty deep scratches that almost formed a cross so the store owner had given him a discount for buying damaged merchandise. Now he was ready.

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Marcus, or Mark as he was going by right now, surveyed the streets with a steely blue gaze, Thompson held firmly in his iron grip. He was the sort of soldier you saw on the recruiting posters, the silent hard-ass that every soldier would sometimes wish they could be like a little bit more. Of course Marcus had a lot of experience with being a soldier, he'd been fighting for nearly two thousand years after all. His full name was Marcus Longinus. Two thousand years ago, he'd been a veteran Roman Centurion stationed in Jerusalem who'd been assigned to oversee the crucifixion of three criminals, one of them a teacher who was hanging there because the authority didn't like his teachings. As an act of mercy, Marcus had stabbed the man in the side with his spear to end his suffering. But when his blood splashed over his face, the eye that had been closed years ago by a battle scar was suddenly healed. It was then that Marcus understood just who this truly was hanging on the cross before him, and understood the gravity of the sin he had unknowingly committed.

He had been cursed with immortal life. He didn't age, didn't sicken, and no injury could hope to even slow him down before it healed. It was agony watching his wife and children die from illness while he stayed behind. His hope for redemption was in undertaking a great and holy one-man crusade; to hunt the Fallen Ones down to the last. The Bible was incorrect about the cause of the flood, it wasn't unleashed to wipe out humanity and begin anew but rather to destroy the angels on earth that had been tainted by their presence there. Chosen from Heaven's finest, they were placed upon Earth to guard the human beings that the Lord so treasured; but living so closely to imperfect beings was too much for them to bear and they eventually fell into temptation, thus beginning a race of beings that were half-human, half-angel. The Great Flood was an attempt to eradicate these abominations; it failed. And so the newly fallen angels and their offspring began their war against Heaven, rebelling and seeking to overthrow the God that had turned His back on them and dared to favor the pathetic human beings that were so much lower than them.

After countless centuries, Marcus had hunted them down to all but a handful of survivors and gained a feared reputation as The Centurion. As soon as the last of them died, he would finally be granted the peace of Heaven. Then the Second World War had come, and Marcus had found himself enlisted in the American Army and fighting in the Battle of the Bulge when the final battle of his war took place. His unit had been attacked by a group of Nazi's that just got back up after they were gunned down. Only Marcus, calm despite the panicking GI's surrounding him, knew these creatures for the half-angel abominations that they were. He'd barely managed, intestines hanging out of his open gut, to get a small squad of men away before the rest of the platoon was slaughtered to the last. It was then that he saw a Fallen angel, the last of his kind, and knew that the monstrosities were planning something big. Just as he was about to put an iron bullet, the only thing that could kill them, into the traitorous angel's head they all saw a light in the sky. This light was later revealed as two angels, one of them a traitor who had stolen the Sword of God and was bringing it to his comrades on Earth. As the angels died, the one who was still of the army of Heaven had given the battered soldiers a noble quest which would guarantee a place for them in Heaven should they complete it; to either recover the lost Sword or to prevent it from being used upon the True Cross in order to given the Fallen the power to reenter Heaven which would cause the end of the world.

After much struggle and grief, they made their stand in an ancient castle where a monastic order kept safe the holiest of relics including the True Cross itself. Empowered by the holy energies of the Cross much like Marcus had been empowered by Christ's blood, the American soldiers who had taken upon themselves the mantle of the Light Brigade fought valiantly. Hundreds of horrors came for them, and hundreds fell. But one by one, both soldier and monk fell in defense of their world until there was only a handful left guarding the Cross in it's very chamber. Wielding his old spear, the Spear of Destiny that was so famed for having pierced Christ's side, Marcus had fought the Sword wielding Fallen head on. He had lost, but one of the soldiers, Chris, calling upon reserves of faith that not even he knew that he had managed to carry the day. The world was saved, the last of the Fallen were slain, and finally Marcus could die of a mortal wound, appropriately enough from a pierced side.

Yet here he was again. Heaven was denied him again, but he would not question he would simply act as he always had; on faith. Ejecting his magazine and replacing it with the cross marked magazine that held his supply of blessed iron bullets, Marcus Longinus, the Centurion, strode off into the cursed night.

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Sitting before his personal shrine in his room, Xander bowed his head in prayer. The lit candles cast a gentle glow over the wooden cross and the painting of the Crucification, the scene depicting the moment that Jesus' side was pierced. Reaching for his shirt, he unbuttoned it and slowly slid the article of clothing off of his body. Standing revealed were dozens of cross-shaped scars, reminders of his night spent as Marcus Longinus.

Taking a K-Bar knife in hand, Xander began craving a new cross into his arm as he spoke to the shrine. "Forgive me. I allowed Angelus to escape again. The Judge could not withstand more modern weaponry, but still the vampire escaped. I shall pursue him. I will not fail again. I will hunt them until they are all gone from the Earth. So help me God."

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Glory stared at the sight before her, fear crawling in her stomach. She'd bashed the ant's puny head in, his brains leaking out of the shattered skull. But he wasn't dying, and his head was reforming itself. Grunting, Xander leveled the Spear of Longinus and impaled Glory through the gut with it. Glory might be a god, but the Spear was one of the most potent artifacts in existence. A scream parted Glory's lips as she felt her power flee from her, leaving Ben in her place. Xander didn't hesitate; he reached up with his K-Bar and slit the man's throat. One more threat destroyed. Once they were all gone, then he could rest.

For now, Heaven would still have to wait. He had work to do. For he was the Centurion, the Eternal Soldier and Protector of Mankind.

End Story 22: Eternal Soldier Boy

Notes: Man, I loved The Light Brigade. I wish that they'd turn it into a movie or something, it's an amazing comic. A seamless blend between Band of Brothers, Excalibur, and The Evil Dead. Seriously, find it and read it. Do it now.

Character: Marcus/The Centurion from The Light Brigade limited comic series from DC (2004?)

Next story: The Xander's Tale


	24. Story 23

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Gotta catch up, gotta catch up, gotta catch up...

Disclaimer: Anyone who honestly thinks that i own BtVS or anything else needs the help of a damn good head shrinker.

Story 23: The Xander's Tale

Based upon Buffy's decision to dress as a noblewoman, Xander decided that he would also dress medievally. But knights and things like that were too boring. He'd much rather go as a wandering adventurer, a minstrel perhaps. So with the selection of some studded leather armor, a sword and dagger, a quiver of arrows, a drinking skin, a lute, a medallion, and other pieces of various gear, his costume was set. This was going to be great! Now if only he knew how to use that lute...

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The Bard, or 'the bastard who knocked up my daughter/burned my village/kicked my puppy/killed my mule/stole my clothes/robbed me/fucked my wife/went streaking through the village/plundered the village coffers/stabbed me in the ass/watched and laughed as goblins overran my potato fields/took my last mug of ale/all of the above' as he was most commonly called yawned as he stretched lazily. Well now, wasn't this just perfect. A new town, no idea where he was, and the world going to hell in a hand basket all around him. Any minute now a mysterious old man was going to come up to him and tell him that he was 'destined to save blah blah blah lots of work blah blah blah no reward blah blah'. He really had to learn how to start dodging those mysterious old man types; they gave him the creeps and the senile old buggers always seemed shocked when he wouldn't work for free. Did he look like a born sucker or something, honestly now!

It was then that he heard a girl's voice calling his name, and he couldn't help but grin widely in appreciation as a fine looking wench who looked like she might warm his bed for a couple of coins ran up to him. "Xander, thank God that you're..." Willow trailed off as she finally noticed Xander looking at her lecherously and in a totally un-Xanderlike fashion, causing her to blush heavily and try to cover herself better. "You're not Xander. Who are you?"

The scruffy looking man gave a wide devil may care grin and gave her a sweeping bow, hand held dramatically over his heart while the other gestured grandly to the air. "Milady, I just so happen to be the brave and cunning toast of tale and song, that adventurer supreme and wandering master of lyrics and wit, the Bard. Mayhaps if I assist you through these perilous streets, you would be so good as to offer me the comforts to be had at your abode?"

Willow eyed him speculatively, eyes going to the sword sheathed over one shoulder. "Do you think that sword of yours is good enough to deal with this?"

Fire danced in the Bard's eyes and his grin grew utterly lecherous as his eyes hungrily undressed her. "I assure you lass, that my sword is up to any challenge that may arise, and I'm quite skilled in it's proper use. I most certainly haven't had any complaints."

It took a minute for his words to process, then Willow proved that ghosts CAN turn bright crimson.

"XANDER!"

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"So lemme get this right, Giles. The Judge can't be killed by any weapon forged, and so you want me to try and use the creatures that I can summon through my music to defeat him? Risking life and limb for no reward or booty of either kind? Hmmm... Pass."

"B-bu-but Xander! The Judge will destroy everything! Thousands will die before he can be stopped once more!"

"Don't bloody care, I'm going to Scotland. I can probably get a decent mug o' ale there."

"...If you do it I'll pay you seven thousand dollars and give you my 1960's collection of Playboy magazines."

"...! Well, it's just my duty as a good citizen to save the world then! Onward! For coin and for cleavage! Besides, maybe that Dru wench will be there. I'd like to show her the business end of my shortsword, I tell you what."

"Bloody hell, the world is doomed."

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Whistler sighed, a migraine forming as he tried to get this kid to dance to the Powers' tune. "Listen kid, you have a higher calling to... YEOWCH!"

Xander snickered as the spider made out of pure electricity, summoned by the magic of Xander's lute, played tag with the jollies of the balance demon called Whistler. While his unwelcome visitor was otherwise occupied, Xander slipped away unnoticed. Whistler might not exactly be a mysterious old man, but he'd learn how to dodge the blighter yet!

"And so the Bard, being a cowardly bastard snuck off with his tail between his legs like a common burglar..."

The young man glared up into the sky at the disembodied voice that refused to give him any respite and made no secret of the fact that it despised him. "Oh shove a bloody cork in it 'ya buggerin' bastard."

"I'd like to see you make me."

"SHUT YER GOB!"

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Buffy sighed, banging the gavel against the podium in the middle of the meeting room. It was an odd mix of beings sitting there. Willow, Tara, Cordelia, a giggling Drusilla, Faith, the vengeance demoness Anya, and even the hell goddess Glory turned their attention onto her. Dawn wasn't a member yet, and if Buffy had any say in the matter then it would be many long years before she was accepted into this little club. It was disturbing enough back when her mother was still alive and had been a member. Standing tall, Buffy began to speak. "This meeting of the Xander Harris Is A Snarky, Greedy, Lying, Lazy, Drunken, Careless, Selfish Pig Bastard But God Do We Ever Love To Do Him Club of Sunnydale is now called to order, President Buffy Summers presiding. Our first order of business, Vice-President Willow Rosenburg and Treasurer Tara McClay have a special report. Ladies?"

"Well, Xan has learned a new trick with his tongue..."

End Story 23: The Xander's Tale

Notes: I've got nothing to say about this. Please don't stone me.

Character: The Bard from The Bard's Tale videogame (2004)

Next story: Soul Xander


	25. Story 24

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Almost there, almost caught up...

Disclaimer: If I own them then why am I so damn poor?

Story 24: Soul Xander

Xander practically had a heart attack when he walked into Ethan's store only for an air horn to sound and confetti dropping on his head. However, his moment of panic was quickly forgotten when the owner congratulated him on being the hundredth customer to the store's grand opening. As such, Xander was entitled to a specially made costume compliments of the store. And what a costume it was, looking like a demonically mutated set of dark plate armor. Beside it was a massive sword, practically as tall and as wide as a fully grown man with organic protrusions growing from it and an eye-like decoration set in the middle of it; it was almost like the sword was alive. It was a creepy looking costume, but impressive. Just wait until the girls got an eyeful of him!

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As Ethan's spell raced through Sunnydale, Xander's costume came to horrifying life. The armor fused with his body. A mane of red sprouted from the base of the bat-winged helmet, growing into a long plume that fluttered in the wind. His right arm grew to nearly the length of his whole body, malformed and grotesque with three grasping fingers in the form of talons at the end. The sword's eye blinked, looking around as it came to life. And his eyes, once a warm brown were replaced with a horrifying, glowing red that leaked out from the helmet's eye slits.

Nightmare, the dark knight possessed by the unholy blade Soul Edge who had killed and murdered his way across the entirety of Europe, lifted his head and gave an unearthly cry of dark pleasure. "MASSACRE!"

The bloodbath had begun.

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Willow scrambled back futilely, back finally bumping into a wall as the armored figure approached her, it's eyes glowing with the fires of hell. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to keep down her sobs. They were all gone. Buffy, Giles, Ms. Calendar, Angel, all of them murdered by this THING approaching her. The thing that before Halloween had been her best friend. "Xander, please don't..."

She was silenced by the clawed hand shooting forward and grasping her about the throat, lifting her so that the tip of the sword held in the monster's other hand was nestled gently between her breasts. The glowing eyes stared straight into hers, and if it weren't for the helmet obscuring the rest of the thing's face then she would have sworn that it was wearing an expression of extreme pleasure. It's voice was rough and raw, more animal than human as it growled at her. "OFFER YOUR SOUL!"

Then Willow screamed as the sword pierced her body and she felt the blade devouring her soul into itself.

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Xander stood amongst the ruins of Sunnydale, old crumbling buildings that had been destroyed months ago and freshly gutted tanks and armored personnel carriers that had been destroyed as little as seventeen hours ago surrounding him. He had done this, all of it. He couldn't help it, when he fell asleep the sword took over. The Judge, the mayor, the Scoobies... All had fallen before Nightmare and Soul Edge. After Buffy had died, a Slayer named Kendra came after him. Then after her came another named Faith. Then another and another and another. He'd lost count of how many after his thirteenth Slayer, a terrifying feat that no other supernatural being could lay claim to. And with every person he killed, Soul Edge became stronger as it consumed their souls.

The general populace of Sunnydale hadn't been spared either. Just four months after Halloween, nobody remained living in Sunnydale, and only one in twenty-five had managed to escape from his rampages and leave the town. He couldn't remember for sure, but he was pretty certain that he'd killed Mrs. Summers and Jesse's parents as well as his own. The military had eventually responded, at first sending two platoons. When they lost contact with them, they sent in a battalion, only to get a garbled message screaming at them for reinforcements. A little wiser this time, they sent in a full infantry regiment with tank support and attack helicopters. Only six men escaped, with five of them being committed to psychiatric care and the last one committing suicide. The military response to that disaster had been to carpet bomb Sunnydale before sending in six armored columns to grind even the dust into a fine powder. But they hadn't stopped him, nothing could.

Xander idly wondered if Ethan Rayne could have imagined that his harmless little joke would have unleashed something that nobody in this world was equipped to stop. Only a weapon master of unprecedented skill and spirit could hope to stop him and wrench Soul Edge from his fingers, and this world hadn't produced such masters for nearly three hundred years. And until such a master could be produced, a process that could take decades if not centuries, everyone who stood against him was just another soul to feed Soul Edge's thirst. A tear ran down from his eye slit and fell hissing upon the shattered concrete as his gaze turned to the direction of Los Angeles. Soon he would have to sleep again, and the slaughter would begin anew.

End Story 24: Soul Xander

Notes: ...Please don't hurt me.

Character: Nightmare from the Soul Calibur videogame series (began 1999)

Next story: Xander of Ulthwe


	26. Story 25

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: (crying) I was so close, so close to being caught up. Now I'm days behind again and the final deadline is fast approaching. This stinks. Ah well, such is life. Before I start I'd like to clear up a few things from my last story, Soul Xander. Xander as Nightmare has possession of Soul Edge's memories which go back thousands of years and encompass hundreds of fighting styles; he's easily killed hundreds of skilled soldiers, hardened mercenaries, experienced pirates, and talented martial artists of both the ancient and more modern worlds. As such it would take someone not only of unprecedented skill but of extreme perseverance and determination as well. As for Xander's reasons for not killing himself, they are the same as Nightmare's from the game; if he died and left Soul Edge behind then the blade would simply find a new host, leaving only the option of waiting until someone who can both kill him and destroy Soul Edge comes along. Anyway I hope that this explained some things to some people. Hopefully I'll catch up and meet my deadline.

Disclaimer: Anyone who honestly thinks that I own any of these series will be taken outside and castrated so that your stupidity isn't passed on to the next generation. Thank you.

Story 25: Xander of Ulthwe

Xander whistled in awed appreciation as his eyes caressed the costume proudly displayed within it's crystal clear display case set within a place of honor at the center of the store. It was black and sleek, with gleaming obsidian armor and flowing white robes. Adorning both the armor and the enclosed, conical helmet were a variety of blood red gemstones, each one sparkling as if it had an inner light. Intricate plastic runes were embedded in the armor and helmet, glowing from some internal light source. Mounted next to the costume's right hand was a curved, futuristic pistol colored a dull, bone like white. To it's left was an amazingly detailed spear, it's red tip as long and thick as a Roman gladius and axe blades on either side of it. Just looking at the costume, you could tell that the character that wore it possessed an ageless grace and power.

So entranced by the sight of the costume, Xander was slightly startled when a man's soft voice spoke up next to him. "It's a masterpiece, isn't it?"

The teen turned, regarding the man standing next to him and recognizing him as the store's owner, Ethan. Nodding, he turned back to the costume. "Yes, it is. Games Workshop, right?"

Ethan's eyes sparkled as he fully regarded the youth next to him. "Yes, you're correct. I admit to having had a slight fascination with their franchise in the late eighties. Such marvelous worlds they create. Full of adventure, tragedy, sacrifice, triumph... and Chaos. You're a fan of their works, my lad?"

Xander blushed slightly in embarrassment, scratching his head as he wondered just how he got into a conversation like this. "Yeah, my friend gave me one of their miniatures for a birthday present when I was just a kid. I could never afford to play the game, but it's kept my interest. You must have really loved it to, if you made something like this. It's beautiful."

The Englishman smiled, waving off Xander's praises. "You flatter me, lad. Now will you be purchasing this costume for the night's activities?" Ethan didn't miss the boy's wince and how he clutched his wallet. Obviously the teenager was seriously lacking in funds and was too embarrassed to say anything about it. But he still kept his eyes hungrily glued to the costume, the desire for it plain to the eyes of one such as Ethan. He wasn't lying, this piece really was his masterpiece; he'd sunk dozens of hours into it's construction, both his genuine love of the franchise the costume came from and the thoughts of the chaos such a character could cause fueling his efforts. If it was worn by someone who had some sort of emotional attachment to the costume or what it represented, then the effects of the spell would be so much greater. It was a perfect opportunity, and Ethan refused to pass it up.

"Tell you what lad, how much money is in your pockets? Don't lie now."

"Uhmmm, well... Maybe ten bucks."

"Sold. You have the costume as a rental for tonight so long as you make sure to let everyone know where you got it from."

At that moment, Xander was doing a fine impersonation of a fish as he gaped at Ethan. "How... What... Why?"

If he hadn't been so flustered, Xander might have become wary at the sight of Ethan's plotting smirk but as it was he still only had eyes for the costume. "Anything for a fellow fan, my boy. Now let's get all of this packaged, hmm?"

Overjoyed, Xander gladly handed over all the money held in his pockets, and the deal was sealed.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Farseer Taldeer of the Craftworld Ulthwe, one of the leaders of the survivors of the dying Eldar race shook her head as the warp assaulted her mind. It was as if she were inside of the Eye of Terror itself, a vortex of chaos and dark energies. The confusion caused by her last memories didn't help her to regain control quickly either. She remembered descending to the world of Kronus to combat the Ancient Enemy, the robotic zombies known as Necrons whose dark, genocidal gods the Eldar had been fighting against for millennium. She remembered setting up a base in the far frozen wastes of Tyrea, and sitting back to watch the lesser races exhaust some measure of the Necrons' might before moving to engage them. She remembered how her secret sanctuary in the northern parts of Kronus had been discovered by the mon-keigh, by the humans, and how their massive armies had moved to capture her as had been their original intent for pursuing her to Kronus. She remembered how Eldar speed, stealth, and cunning had slowly fallen to the overwhelming numbers and pig-headed determination of the mon-keigh Imperial Guard. She remembered how the Avatar of Khaine, a living embodiment of the Eldar god of war had fallen as the humans swarmed up the icy hills of her base like a horde of locusts. And she remembered how they had captured her, drugged her, and tortured her until she was finally executed as an alien and an enemy of the Imperium of Mankind. How curious it was then that she should then come to this place, where Chaos seemed to have a firm grasp on the world and she could not access the Webway.

Hefting her shuriken pistol in one hand and her Singing Spear in the other, the Farseer dashed off into the night. Her vision was clouded, she would seek shelter until it cleared. And then, whatever enemies might lay in wait for her in this strange place would learn the true power of the Eldar, former masters of the very stars themselves.

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The morning after Halloween, Xander Harris stood fully unclothed in front of his bedroom mirror, a frown on his now elegant and slender features as the teen took in the changes wrought by Halloween. He was slimmer, a little taller and infinitely more graceful looking; he had the build of a dancer now. Longer, pointed ears poked out from his hair on either side of his head. His eyes were narrower, and slanted like an Asian's. The long mane of silver hair was new as well. But the biggest change had to be the two small and firm mounds of flesh on Xander's torso, and the decided lack of dangly bits from between the legs.

Sighing, Xander, formerly a teenage human male and now a stunning Eldar female with thousands of years of memories and experience crammed into her head, gave another stern frown as her voice spilled forth from her thin, icy lips, the tone cultured and musical. "This is not acceptable."

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Richard Wilkins had lived for over a century and had founded a town for the expressed reason of one day using it as a feeding ground when he ascended to full demonhood. He had made deals with demons, vampires, witches, other sorcerers, and even the occasional higher power. He ruled the town of Sunnydale with an iron fist within a velvet glove and it's inhabitants lived and died at his pleasure. Even the Master, arguably one of the most terrifyingly powerful vampires of all time had been trapped by his machinations. In his own way he was as soulless and ruthless as any vampire or demon. His power was nearly absolute. And he wasn't afraid of anything.

Or at least he'd thought that he had forgotten what fear was until his office door was bashed off of it's enchanted hinges by a wave of eldritch energies. A slender, graceful figure clad in gleaming black armor and white robes strode through his ruined doorway, runes and red gemstones glowing from positions all over the obviously female form. She walked towards him, and the mayor was frozen in place by the aura of power she exuded. The power, oh the power! Just for once, to have such power in his hands, Wilkins would have gleefully traded in his soul a second time.

Coming to a stop, the armored figure held up a single dainty hand and extended it towards him, palm up and facing him. Her voice filtered through the helmet, cultured and refined with a hint of a musical tone behind the words. "Richard Wilkins. The skein of time and space has shown me of your plans, of your foolish ambitions. This shall NOT come to pass. I have plans of my own now, and your goals could ruin them. Your existence must therefore end. Do not struggle, your defeat is assured."

Then a storm of psychic lightning formed within her armored hand, and lanced out to embrace him. To his credit, the mayor didn't scream. He didn't cry, he didn't threaten, he didn't plead or beg for his life. He just sat there, accepting his fate to fall at the hands of one even more powerful than himself. Within a minute, there was nothing left of the man who would have become a demon save for a charred skeleton. The figure nodded in satisfaction, then strode back out as quickly as she had come.

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Xander Harris sat in the solitude of the Crawford Street Mansion, meditating in the hopes that the future would reveal itself to her and allow her to choose the best path for her goals. Angel and his vampiric brood were dust in the wind, the Tarakan Brotherhood receiving a contract on the remaining Scourge of Europe weeks before Spike would have taken out a similar contract on Buffy. As far as the distraught Slayer and her friends were concerned, a nameless descendant of one of Angelus' past victims had contracted the assassins to take vengeance for their family. What they would never know was that it had been Xander who had been the actual client, paying for it from funds plundered from the deceased mayor which is also how the Eldar woman had purchased this mansion and various other things that would ensure her security and comfort. She had glimpsed visions of Spike hiring the Brotherhood and other visions of Angelus being released, and so had decided to kill two birds with a single stone.

With the mayor dead, the corruption that had been in Sunnydale's local government had quickly been weeded out and replaced by officials who had been subtly guided to Sunnydale by Xander's machinations, officials who were fully in the know concerning the supernatural. Even those who did not know had soon had that knowledge subtly implanted within their minds by the magically created Farseer's powers, and all had been given the psychic compulsion to make Sunnydale safer while keeping what they knew secret in order to prevent panic. Veteran Sunnydale police officers who had been threatened into ignoring the goings on at night now had the support they had lacked before, and now regularly patrolled the nighttime streets armed with pepper spray bottles filled with holy water and revolvers loaded with wooden bullets. Within months Sunnydale had become safer than it had ever been in it's history, leaving Xander free to pursue the goal that had been left in her mind by Taldeer's possession that Halloween from not even a year ago; to see to the survival of the Eldar race. A Farseer had no greater duty than that.

It was then that Ethan Rayne stepped into Xander's meditation chambers, face solemn. He too was changed, his features now formed into the regal looks of an Eldar male. Green robes adorned his body and a bladed staff was held loosely in one hand, the clothing and weapon marking him as a Warlock, an Eldar squad leader and the bodyguard of a Farseer. Just days after Halloween, Ethan had been found by Xander as she searched for him through the planet's own leylines in replacement of the Eldar Webway. Her proposal had been simple, to help her bring the Eldar race into existence and establish them as a power that would shake the heavens. She was offering him a chance to become father to the greatest and most terrible race that the universe would ever see. Needless to say he'd accepted, and before the week was out he'd joined her as the second Eldar in existence as he used his spell upon himself.

Respectfully he kneeled before her, head bowed. He too had gained instincts and memories from his costume, and they all told him to show a Farseer nothing but the greatest of respect. "My lady, have the powers of Fate shown you further visions of the proper path?"

The only indication of her awareness of his presence was a slight inclination of her head, her eyes closed in concentration even as she spoke. "Yes. The path is clear. Another Slayer has been called, Kendra. She has been too well indoctrinated into the Watcher's way of thinking, and this will lead to her death which must be allowed to pass; from her death a new Slayer will be called, Faith. Her desperation for acceptance will make her more than willing to join our slowly growing race. I have already foreseen her path, and she will take upon herself the aspect of the Howling Banshee. Two others have revealed themselves right here in Sunnydale, a Johnathan Levinson and Andrew Wells who will both jump at the chance to immerse themselves into the fantasies they have dreamed of all their lives, and will make a fine Dire Avenger and Warp Spider respectively. By the time these things have come to pass, Cordelia Chase will be facing financial ruin and will be receptive to any suggestions for making a comfortable living; her cunning and wits will serve her well as a Ranger. Soon after the Scoobies, wracked by doubts and fears of the future will also be willing to join my cause. Oz, silent and dedicated, shall find the path of the Dark Reaper. Giles, knowledgeable and wise shall join me as a fellow Farseer. Buffy, brash and headstrong will be drawn to the path of the Striking Scorpion. Jenny Calender, or Jana, will take the path of the Guardian, and thus serve as the beginning of the bulk of our future race's defense. Willow shall find herself heeding the call of the Bonesinger, calling upon the wraithbone and shaping it into new creations which shall sustain our newborn race. Later on a newcomer, Tara, will be called to the path of the Bonesinger as well, and with Willow they shall build a new world for us. Joyce Summers, fearing her own mortality will also come to us as will... another which is of her blood, and she shall also find herself as a Guardian while the other will become a Harlequin, worshiper of the Laughing God and enforcer for the Eldar. From these few, more shall come as they hear the whispers of immortality and power freely offered. The mon-keigh shall eventually fade away, and the Eldar will rule the galaxy as they were meant to."

Breaking her meditation, Xander opened her eyes and rose to her feet, motioning for Ethan to do the same and approach her. "In the meantime, we shall both do our duty to rekindle our race." The former teenager leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss upon her Warlock's own thin lips. It was cold, almost icy with no passion behind it; Eldar knew better than to give themselves over to the passions and emotions that they felt. It was the rampant, unchecked running of such things that had led to the Fall of the Eldar race. There was no love between these two, only mutual respect and a dedication to the duty and the path that they had chosen. They had a duty to create and build up the Eldar race in this dimension, a duty that they had set upon by their own wills. So for now, they would be lovers if such was needed, even if there was no deeper emotion between the two of them. The race must grow.

End Story 25: Xander of Ulthwe

Notes: I didn't see that ending coming. My muse moved me and i answered. Pleas, please don't hurt me for this. I bruise easily, like a fruit.

Character: Eldar Farseer Taldeer from the Warhammer 40,000 universe from Games Workshop (began 1987)

Next story: Crimson Xander


	27. Story 26

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Must push to finish, must catch up... Stupid deadline. I ask for everyone who was disturbed by the last story to please forgive me. Some reviewers were pushing for another Xander gender-bend story, so I delivered. Having Xander get together with Ethan Rayne was unexpected and disturbing even for me, and I currently have nothing but hatred for my muse for making me write such a monstrosity. Once again, I feel that I must beg you all for your forgiveness and hope that despite certain aspects you were amused enough by the story to overlook it's shortcomings. Hopefully this story will make up for the last one.

Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS or any other series.

Story 26: Crimson Xander

Every single cell of his inner fanboy was quivering in delight and trying to incite Xander to drool as he gazed longingly upon the beauty before him. Red, nothing but red. Red, flowing cloth. Hard, red plastic. Even the gloves and boots were red. The only other color in the whole costume was the black of the visor and the black portions of the body suit revealed underneath the cloak. It had to cost a small fortune, but the part of Xander which was a pure and unwavering sci-fi geek knew one thing and one thing only. He had to have this costume!

Gleefully gathering his choice of costume into his arms Xander practically skipped over to the cash register, humming the Imperial March all the way.

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Kir Kanos, last remaining loyal member of the Emperor's Royal Guard and highly wanted man, blinked as he saw the world through the visor of his uniform helmet. What was he doing here? His last memory was of holding Mirith Sinn, the woman that he had grown to love despite being on opposite sides, kissing her goodbye before he leapt into his X-Wing fighter and blasting off for parts unknown. There were other images of course, both from before and after that moment. The memories danced within his mind, his whole life playing out before him.

Killing his best friend Lemmet Tauk in a fight to the death as his final test before being deemed worthy of serving the Emperor, and the scar that Darth Vader had given him for showing sorrow over his friend's death. His service in the Imperial Royal Guard, the Emperor's death on the second Death Star, and his master's rebirth in a clone body only to die again due to betrayal. The slaughter of the remaining Royal Guard who were still loyal to the Emperor even in his death at the hands of one of their own, Carnor Jax, and Kir's subsequent flight in order to take vengeance for his Emperor and fallen brothers while his comrade Kile Hannad bought him time to get away. Being forced to aid the New Republic in order to meet his own ends, singlehandedly routing the attacking Stormtroopers on Phaeda which is also where he met Mirith Sinn. Finally taking his revenge on the traitorous Carnor Jax and killing Mirith's friend Sadeet in the process, earning him the rage of the female New Republic officer even as he set his sights on the Imperial Interim Ruling Council which he felt had also betrayed the Emperor and thus must be brought to justice. Assuming the identity of the bounty hunter Kenix Kil, an anagram of his name in the secret battle language of the Royal Guard, throwing off the bounty hunters after the unprecedentedly high reward on his head offered by the Imperial Remnant's Ruling Council even as he continued his mission of hunting down and executing those who had some part in the Emperor's betrayal and death. His employment under Grappa the Hutt and secret reunion with Mirith Sinn only to leave before he could be identified as Kir Kanos, then returning to rescue Mirith after she'd been betrayed by one of her subordinates and turned over to the barbaric Zanibar people. He remembered how the two of them had been stranded in the wilds of Xo, and how the attraction that had passed between the two of them at their first meeting bloomed once more before he managed to get her off planet, staying behind so that she could leave in his place; it was during that time they spent together that she had caused him to question his beliefs and to think for himself.

The Zanibar, as barbaric as they were had also heard of the massive bounty on his head, and instead of torturing him turned him over to Grappa the Hutt where Mirith led a team of New Republic commandos in a mission to rescue him. He remembered preparing himself to execute the clone of Feena D'Asta for her involvement with the Imperial Interim Ruling Council, staying his hand only when Mirith had begged him not to kill the other woman. His determination to see the elimination of the rest of the Ruling Council stayed firm however, and coldly executed the newly proclaimed Emperor Xandel Carivus as the cowardly worm pleaded for his life. The rest of the Interim Ruling Council had been in holding cells, helpless should he decide to execute them all in the Emperor's name, but feeling as though enough blood had been shed he let them live and left their judgment in the hands of the New Republic. Confused by his change of heart, he left New Republic space and Mirith Sinn behind even as the woman confessed her love to him; it couldn't have worked no matter how much they loved one another, as her heart still belonged to the New Republic and his loyalty was still to his deceased Emperor. He resumed his alias as Kenix Kil and returned to a life of bounty hunting, which eventually gave him the chance to avenge Mirith's enslavement by the Zanibar when he killed the being that had betrayed her. Then came the hunt for the scientist Sigit Ranth whose purposefully faulty clones had been yet another factor in the Emperor's death, leading to him being briefly stranded upon the planet Dathomir before resuming his hunt once more. And of course, looming in the distance was his final goal, the last piece of his revenge; one day he would fight and kill Luke Skywalker, the man more responsible than any other for the Emperor's demise.

But all of that was in the past and in the future. Right now, he was stuck in this strange place and he must find a way to get out of here and off planet. Taking his double vibro-blade firmly in hand, Kir Kanos strode gracefully out into the night, the crimson robes of his position flapping around him.

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Xander knelt before Jesse's grave, the crimson robes still adorning his body even though the helmet was removed for the moment. Here, lying before him was his reason for fighting. It was all the reason in the world that a man needed to encourage him to take up his weapons and go into battle. Vengeance, vengeance for his lost friend that had been like a brother to him just as Kir Kanos had sought vengeance for the Emperor that the man had seen as a father figure.

Lightly touching the stone even as he kept one hand firmly wrapped around the double vibro-blade, Xander spoke to the grave of his dead friend. "I'll fight them, Jesse. I'll fight them for you, and not because of any higher goals or noble destiny. I'll fight for no causes but my own, and what I do, I'll do for no man but myself. The vampires will come at me in droves, but they will all fail. How can they not? Their only motive is hunger and a desire for power. Mine is pure. Revenge. Revenge for you, my fallen brother."

Rising from the grave, Xander donned his crimson helmet once more and strode off into the night again; he had a patrol to continue.

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Quentin Travers calmly sipped his tea as two of his men stood guard beside him, secure in the knowledge that all was going according to plan. Soon, that Summers girl would be descending absolutely powerless to fight a master vampire as part of her test. In all likelihood, she would not survive. Then the Council would finally have a proper Slayer once more, rather than one of these free spirited American youngsters. It was nearly foolproof, and he would almost relish the inevitable look upon Rupert Giles' face when the girl that he'd grown far too attached to was dead. Yes, things were definitely going Quentin's way.

It was then that the occupants of the room heard a commotion from outside. There was a whooshing of air, a wet sounding splat, and then a dull thud as though something had hit the ground. Suddenly the nearby window shattered as a corpse was thrown through it. The Council Head's blood ran cold as he identified the decapitated body of one of his guards. Then the door was kicked open, and stalking forward came a figure obscured by brilliant red robes. The figure's black visored eyes were firmly latched onto Quentin, and the man was suddenly reminded of the tale of the Red Death.

The two guards on either side of Quentin quickly withdrew their sidearms and unloaded the clips at the robed assassin. The mysterious figure just raised his double bladed weapon, and with contemptuous ease batted the bullets away as though they were flies. As soon as the bullets ran out, the figure hefted his polearm like a javelin and hurled it straight into the chest of the farthest guard, sending the man slumping to the ground gurgling as blood filled his lungs. Divested of his weapon, the figure sprang forward and charged the other guard, fist outstretched. This guard had been a member of the British SAS assigned to Israel, and as such had masteries in no fewer than four martial arts disciplines including Krav Maga. But in just a few quick, brutal moves the robed attacker had him crumpled on the ground, mewling piteously as he curled around his injured stomach. Reaching down, the figure effortlessly snapped the man's neck before turning his full attention back to Quentin, leaving the Watcher completely alone with his killer.

Shaking in his seat, Travers could do nothing but watch as the crimson clad figure retrieved his weapon and came to be standing before him, blade raised overhead. The voice filtering from out of the helmet was definitely male, but other than that it was unrecognizable and as cold and unfeeling as death itself. "Quentin Travers. For your attempted murder of the Slayer Buffy Summers, and for your subversion of what should be the Council's true goals, I condemn you to death."

Close to wetting himself in fear, Travers raised his hands to ward off his would-be executioner and tried to reason with him. "W-w-w-wait! I... I can give you anything! Money! Power! A position working for the council! Everything that is in my power to give would be yours. All you have to do is let me live!"

The voice was filled with nothing but contempt for him, the emotionless face of the red colored helmet instilling even greater fear in the man. "SILENCE! It is so typical of your kind. Trying to weasel your way out of justice with empty promises of riches and power. But I am not like others you have bullied and bought off in the past, Travers. My loyalty to my chosen cause is absolute, and my actions are unwavering. Tonight, you die."

"B-but you aren't wearing gloves! They'll have your fingerprints! They'll find you, lock you up, and give you the needle!"

"Wrong again, as you are wrong about so many things. Just as my helmet filters my voice so that it can't be recognized, my fingerprints have been removed and erased. I'm a man without an identity, without a past. They'll never trace your death to me, and those who might suspect won't care. Now shut up and die already."

"WAIT! PLEA-"

Whatever else Travers was going to say was cut off as the end of a vibro-blade was lodged into his open mouth, penetrating through the roof of the mouth right into the brain. Death was instantaneous. Freeing his weapon, Xander shook off the excess blood then turned on his heel and exited the slaughterhouse this place had become. Travers would no longer be a threat, and the constant betrayals of the ideals the man had been sworn to uphold had been ended. Now, he just needed to get to Buffy and help her with the test before she did anything stupid and got herself killed.

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Dawn shivered as she looked outside to see an army of Glory's minions, all of them waiting to drag her out of her home and off to their insane goddess. Beside her was Xander Harris, for once not wearing the crimson robes that had become synonymous with death to the vampires and demons in Sunnydale but no less intimidating despite that. Hefting his double sided vibro-blade, Xander grunted as he surveyed the rabble outside and estimated the best route for escape. "Alright, that alley over there gives us a good route to the next street. We should be able to escape from there. If any of them come, between my Echani fighting skills and latent Force abilities I should easily be able to fight them off. Any questions?"

"You talk like you have a plan."

His answering grin had just a bit of a sparkle to it, something that assured her that the old Xander was still in there even if he was buried by the Imperial Guardsman sometimes. "I always have a plan. Now let's go."

The younger girl groaned as she watched her long-time crush leap out of the second story window and barrel right into Glory's little mind controlled army, clearing a path for her to get out of the front door and race to the alley. She just hoped that Xander hadn't forgotten that not everyone was as well conditioned as he was when he made this plan. Grumbling, the teen bounded down the stairs and out of the front door. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

However for once Murphy's Law was forgiving, and Xander managed to get Dawn away from the Summers house and out of Sunnydale without further incident. Blushing as Xander ensured her safety, Dawn thanked him, finally beginning to feel safe as Xander kept careful watch over her. After all, who could possibly ask for a better bodyguard than a member of the Empire's elite?

End Story 26: Crimson Xander

Notes: Kir Kanos kicks major ass, and I hope that I brought that across in this fic. I was originally going to do a Stormtrooper even though it's already been done, then I had the sudden inspiration for this. I don't think that anybody has ever had Xander dress as an Imperial Guard before. Hope you enjoyed.

Character: Imperial Royal Guard Kir Kanos from the Star Wars comic series Crimson Empire (1997)

Next story: The Right Technology


	28. Story 27

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Gah! Only a few more days until the end of October! Gotta hurry! Gotta move, gotta write! Must make it! And... And, nobody is forgiving me for the horror that was Xander of Ulthwe. (crying) I'm going to be haunted by that lapse in judgment for the rest of my fanfiction writing career, aren't I? I'M SORRY! I don't know where the hell the Xander/Ethan came from! Forgive me, please forgive me! As for Kendra, my purpose in Story 25 was to show how uncaring Xander could be now in pursuit of his/her goals, as he/she had the chance to save Kendra and didn't because the Slayer could prove to be a hindrance to his/her plans. And once again, PLEASE FORGIVE ME!

Disclaimer: Ok, who hasn't gotten the point by now? I don't own 'em.

Story 27: The Right Technology

Xander whistled in appreciation as he stared in awe at the hulking costume left in the corner of the store. All his thoughts at that moment could be summed up with "Xander likes." Seriously, the thing was better than Buffy in a bikini... Well, maybe not that awesome, but still very nice. It was pure metal, the chrome of the steel muscles and limbs glinting in the shop's florescent lighting. The head was narrow and streamlined, with five red circles in the face area and a pair of 'rabbit ears' towards the back of the skull. A bulky green flak jacket and fatigue pants adorned the gleaming body, and beside it was a gun nearly as long as Xander was tall with a barrel as thick as his wrist. Yes, Xander definitely liked.

It was then that a voice at his shoulder caused Xander to leap into the air, spinning around as his heart beat a staccato. Standing before the boy, Ethan chuckled in amusement. "Sorry about that, my lad. But as I was just saying, it's a beauty isn't it?"

Getting over his brief fright, Xander nodded eagerly in response. Chuckling some more, Ethan stepped forward and patted the costume on one of it's metallic biceps. "You know, it was a total shipping error. This is a costume based on a manga character and was destined for a specialty shop for such things in LA, but when it came here I went ahead and paid the fees and everything so now it's mine. I simply can't seem to get it off of my hands though. The costume is rather heavy, and nobody whose been by the shop and has the muscle and build to wear it has been interested."

Eyes turning speculative, Ethan looked Xander up and down. "If you don't mind me saying lad, you seem to be in excellent shape." And indeed, Xander was in far superior physical condition than most other teens his age. A side effect of walking around town all night and fighting things that were five times as fast and as strong as a normal human being. Waving his hand for dramatic affect as he tried to make a sale that would surely add to the chaos of tonight, Ethan continued. "Now I imagine that being a young man, you have precious little pocket money. So I'm willing to make a deal with you. Ten dollars for the rental with another ten as a deposit, and you make sure to let people know where you got the costume. Savvy?"

It was a great deal, and Xander would be a fool to pass up a chance for such an awesome costume. But still, he had one question. "Before I hand over the money, I have one question."

"Yes? What is it, lad?"

Xander just pointed to some white lettering on the flak jacket. "What does E.S.W.A.T. mean?"

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Briareos Hecatonchires was a veteran soldier. He'd been a proud and distinguished member of LA S.W.A.T. before the whole damn world had gone crazy. After that, he'd been a superb guerrilla during the Third World War when most of the world had been burned to ash. At least that was until he got separated from his unit and was horribly injured on the South African front. Lying on the battlefield as life and breath slowly left his body, all he could think about was seeing the face of his partner and lover Deunan again. He'd been given that chance when he was placed within a cybernetic body by the council of Elders of the city of Olympus, the sole world power that had risen after the war ended with no clear winner. Acting under their orders, he'd joined the city's E.S.W.A.T. unit, or the Extra Special Weapons And Tactics unit to use it's full name, where he was eventually reunited with Deunan even if he was mostly metal and wires now. After a shaky period of getting to know one another all over again, the two had united and managed to save Olympus from itself. He had fought wars, executed countless police actions, jumped in front of armor piercing bullets in order to save Deunan, and had faced down forty-story tall walking fortresses; needless to say suddenly finding himself in the middle of what looked to be a pre-war small town during a riot perpetrated by miniature monsters did precious little to faze him.

Hefting his anti-tank rifle, Briareos stomped off into the night, surprisingly silent and stealthy for a nearly seven foot tall cyborg weighing roughly half a ton. His red optical sensors glowed red as he scanned the streets for hostiles, though none seemed inclined to mess with him. He had to find Deunan.

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Willow was worried about Xander. After Giles had broken Ethan's spell, everyone had gone back to normal. Everyone but him. His muscles, skeletal structure, and most of his organs had been replaced with cybernetics straight out of a sci-fi movie. Even his brain had been supplemented by an additional computer brain. The change from human to cyborg had been great and it had taken much of the portion of the spell that was directed at him to make the initial change, leaving far too little power to change him back. So now Xander was made out of nearly five hundred pounds worth of metal, wiring, and electronics making her Xander-shaped friend no longer Xander-shaped, and Giles couldn't think of any spells he could use that would safely turn him back into a human. So for the past forty minutes, Xander had been sitting in the furthest corner of the library, silently brooding which told Willow how greatly this had affected him since Xander never brooded.

Approaching her friend, the redhead laid a hand on one metallic shoulder, trying to offer support. After several minutes of silence she started to move her hand away, only for Xander to reach up and gently hold her hand where it was. His voice had a slight electronic whine, but other than that it was still the same as it always was. "Don't stop, Wills. Your touch... It actually does help. It's... comforting."

Blushing, Willow didn't try to pull away despite her initial desire to faint at the thought of Xander holding her hand; she'd dreamed about a moment like this, even if it wasn't quite how she pictured it. "You mean... You can actually feel that?"

Xander nodded, the optical sensors at the base and tips of his mechanical rabbit ears glowing a faint red as they focused on his friend. Teachers and mothers had bragged for generations that they had eyes in the backs of their heads, but Xander actually did. "Yes. The outer skin is elastic. I can still feel sensation and temperature. It's... nice that at least that much of my humanity remains."

Willow felt a chill go up her spine at his depressed tone of voice; Xander had never sounded like this before, even during his worst times at home. "What do you mean?"

The rabbit ears seemed to droop and the optical sensors dimmed, making Willow think that he was looking away from her in shame. "I'm a monster, Will. A damned machine. I'm less human than Dead Boy now..."

Xander's depressed rant was cut off when Willow leaned forward, her arms spread wide to encompass his shoulders as she leaned against him. The large red circle directly in the middle of his new face contracted slightly as the olfactory receptors took in the scent of her shampoo; it was nice. Why hadn't he noticed things like that before? Willow's voice was soft and gentle, and he could tell that she was trying to hold back tears for his sake. "Don't say that, Xander. Don't ever say that about yourself again. You're my Xander, remember? You're still human on the inside. Underneath all that metal plating and wiring, you are still my Xander. You'll always be my Xander."

If he'd still been human, the teenage cyborg would have had to choke back a sob. Willow always knew what had to be said to make him feel better, didn't she? Just like he did the same for her. More than ever, he needed the support that Willow had given him all of his life just as he had done for her. If he was going to convince himself that he was still human inside, he needed Willow beside him. "I am your Xander Wills, forever and ever. But I need you to be there right beside me. Can you do that despite me being like this? Can you be my Willow?"

He didn't need his optical sensors to be activated to know that she was smiling albeit sadly as she embraced him even tighter; he could feel it. Her voice was still soft, but it was full of unconditional love and that's all he needed to give himself strength as she echoed his words right back at him. "Forever and ever."

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The Initiative base was going to straight to hell as the armored form of Xander Harris strode through the halls, almost casually dispatching demons and half-mechanical zombies left and right as they came at him. Willow, Buffy, Willow's friend Tara, Giles, and Buffy's boyfriend Riley were all on the upper levels getting the soldiers to safety. He was going down to face Adam alone, despite Willow's pleas for him not to. In a way, Adam was created because of him. Maggie Walsh had seen video clips of Xander in action, and so had decided that she needed to construct her own cyborg creation. Adam was the result, and as far as Xander was concerned that made the Frankenstein-wannabe his responsibility.

Doors parted before him while others locked down and kept the demons and mechanical monstrosities contained. Fire suppressant systems were tripped, dousing the fires that were building in various areas of the base and destroying a few of the demons whose weakness was water. The base's codes were being locked down and put behind a triple-layered firewall with security encryption. While all of this was going on, the base's communications were broadcasting an automated SOS to all United States Armed Forces units within a hundred miles, ensuring that reinforcements would be here for the clean up at least. All of this was being done by Xander even as he kept his full attention on his forward progress and engaged multiple hostiles. The Hecatonchires system, the system that controlled his cybernetics, was truly a marvel. Named after the hundred handed giants of Greek mythology, it allowed him to access and control multiple systems at once; a single Hecatonchires unit could control an entire aircraft carrier single handedly and just as well as a full crew.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of steady progress, Xander finally opened the last security door to see the scientific blending of man, demon, and machine known as Adam standing before him. The cybernetic abomination smiled genuinely at him, it's voice calm and polite as if they were discussing the weather and not about to engage in mortal combat. "Xander Harris. A pleasure to meet you properly at last. Mother talked about you so often. She had hoped that I might become as advanced as you, perhaps even more so."

Xander's audio projectors accurately conveyed the disdain he felt in his snort. "That's quite a mother complex you've got there, tinker toy. Let me do you a favor and reunite the two of you."

Adam's smile stayed firmly in place as his arm morphed into a machine gun, launching a volley of armor piercing rounds at Xander as the magically created cyborg jumped behind a nearby console for cover. He might have metal alloy for skin, but he wasn't invincible. One of his rabbit ears peeked out from around the corner of the console, the optic giving him a clear view of his target even as he stayed behind cover. Holding his anti-tank rifle around the corner, Xander took a second to aim then fired. The rifle that Briareos used was capable of punching through ten inches of hardened steel plating like it was a soggy tissue, and Adam's gun arm proved to be no resistance as it shattered into a million pieces under the force of the shot.

Not giving the other cyborg a chance to recover, Xander took a leap over the top of the console and lunged at Adam. His armored fist ripped through Adam's chest, removing the nuclear power core along with it and rendering the sadistic science experiment powerless. Drawing out a piece of paper covered in runes, Xander slapped it to the unstable nuke before sending a radio message. "It's ready Wills! Do it now!"

As soon as the last words were out of his mouth, the runes flared and the ticking time bomb vanished from Xander's hand. Sighing in exhausted relief, Xander slung his rifle over his shoulder and walked away from Adam's motionless corpse. Just another day on the job.

End Story 27: The Right Technology

Notes: Deadline coming fast... Must hurry.

Character: Briareos from the manga/anime Appleseed (1985 and 1988 respectively, with an animated film in 2004)

Next story: Icy Blood, Warm Heart


	29. Story 28

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: This one is based upon a challenge given to me by deathsheadx. They challenged me to write a "Kendra lives but Faith still gets called" fic. Well, here it is. And just so you know, it's not that I find writing a fic where Kendra lives hard, I just haven't seen any of the episodes with her in them and so have little to base her off of. But here goes.

Disclaimer: Do I really still need to be doing this at this point? I DON'T OWN THEM!

Story 28: Icy Blood, Warm Heart

Xander was wearing a pair of large, dark sunglasses when he stepped into Ethan's store that day. Hours before, he'd made the mistake of talking back to the bastard known as his father while the man was in one of his violently drunken moods. Tony had promptly rewarded Xander with a black eye. Fortunately his mom had been sober, and had quickly gotten a frozen bag of peas onto the growing shiner. He didn't want his girls to worry, so Xander knew that he needed a mask for his costume tonight. Hopefully the swelling and discoloration would be mostly gone before he had to see Buffy and Willow in school after Halloween.

Searching the rocks of costumes, Xander finally came upon a pure white, porcelain mask with red swirls, narrow eye slits, and four squiggly lines carved into the forehead. It came as a set with a long wig and a Japanese kimono, so he just dug into his road trip funds a little and bought the whole thing. At least the mask would keep anyone from seeing his shiner.

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Haku glanced around quickly, panicked as he reached up to touch his mask. The mask that he used to disguise himself as a hunter nin was whole and unmarked, unscratched by the kunai that had come too close for comfort and unbroken by Naruto's fist. Where was this place, how could he still be alive? His last memory was of jumping in front of the Raikiri aimed at Zabusa-sama's chest by the Copy Ninja Kakashi, taking the fatal blow that was meant for his master. He'd died, but he was glad. He had died protecting his precious person, that one person in the whole world that you would gladly do anything for. So if he was dead, how was it that he found himself alive and in a place that was most definitely not the bridge that he and Zabusa were fighting the Konoha shinobi on?

Pushing these thoughts aside for now, Haku made a quick series of one-handed seals, a feat that even ninja twice his age and with far more experience than what he had couldn't do. Instantly a mirror of ice appeared next to him, and he stepped into it, stepping out of another mirror that appeared on a rooftop a hundred yards away. Dismissing his ice mirrors into pools of water, Haku jumped from his perch to the next rooftop, leaping from building to building. He might not know where he was or how he was still alive, but he had to find Zabusa-sama. His master would be needing his living tool after all.

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Xander sighed as he entered the library, brushing his now long black hair out of his eyes while smiling softly at the stunned faces of Buffy and Willow. His voice was soft and gentle as he addressed the equally stunned librarian, giving the man a polite bow. "Giles, there were some changes from Halloween that haven't gone away..."

He was quickly interrupted by Buffy and Willow, who shouted in an eerie unison. "Oh my God! Xander's been turned into a girl!"

A large bead of sweat formed at the back of Xander's head, and his smile grew slightly strained as he turned to the two girls. "Actually, I'm still a boy..."

Again he was interrupted by the girls speaking in perfect unison, this time their shouts growing even louder. "YOU LIE! NO WAY CAN A GUY BE THAT PRETTY! WHERE'S THE JUSTICE IN THAT?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY GUYS ARE GOING TO START QUESTIONING THEIR SEXUALITY ONCE THEY GET A GOOD LOOK AT YOU?!"

Xander just sighed again, cursing the fact that Haku had been the very definition of a bishie. Maybe he shouldn't have come to school wearing a pink shirt either...

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"No weapon forged can hur-"

That was as far as the Judge got before Xander's hand stopped making the seals for his jutsu. Instantly water gathered from the water fountains, the bathroom sinks, and any other place where it could be found in the mall and formed a pillar of ice in front of the demon. In another instant, spikes of ice grew from out of the pillar and launched themselves at all of the enemies present. The Judge, Angelus, Drusilla, and all of the minions soon resembled pincushions as they were struck by the barrage of icy senbon needles. Another few handseals, and the ice needles melted only to refreeze and trap their targets within a frozen prison of ice. Approaching the Judge, Xander's hand lashed out and shattered the frozen demon into thousands of little pieces. This continued onto the vampires gathered there, their bodies dusting inside of the pieces of ice after they broke apart, until Xander finally came to Angelus.

Turning to look at Buffy, Xander gave her a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Buffy. I know that he's your precious person. But if I let him live, then I'll be putting the rest of your precious people in danger, as well as all of mine. Please understand."

Tears in her eyes, Buffy nodded in acceptance and Xander quickly sent Angelus to join the rest of his followers. Examining his hands, Xander gave a slight curse. "Oh drat. I seem to have chipped my nail polish. Now I'll have to look for that particular shade of turquoise again."

Buffy could feel the drop of sweat rolling down the back of her head as she stared at her supposedly male best friend. "Are you SURE that you're really a boy still, Xander?"

"Sometimes I wonder myself, Buffy. Sometimes I wonder myself."

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Xander smiled warmly at the Slayer, and Kendra couldn't help but smile back. This boy was just so pure, so guileless. It was hard to believe that his blood held sway over one of the elements of nature itself. That he was stronger in his own way than ten Slayers combined. He was just so gentle and kind. Plus, the healing salves that he made from local herbs were a great comfort to sore muscles and bruised ribs after a hard night of slaying.

Put at ease by her friend's smile, the Jamaican Slayer started to give his proposal some serious thought. "So let me git dis straight. You wan' ta' put me into a death-like trance as you call it, in order ta' Call de next Slayer?"

Still smiling, Xander nodded. "Exactly. With acupuncture needles, I can easily put your body into a state that is near death, allowing the next Slayer to be Called. And since you'll be a willing, unresisting subject you should recover within a day with proper care and Slayer healing. It's a simple, easily workable plan."

Kendra nodded, conceding his point. But she wondered what her Watcher would think of this. Two Slayers at once was unprecedented in the history of the Council. Now this boy was proposing that they create even more. "Tell me tho', why should ya' wan' ta' call more Slayers?"

Smile still warm and firmly in place, Xander took the girl's hands in his, causing her a faint blush. "Tell me, do you have a precious person? Someone that you want to protect, to make their dreams become a reality?"

The dark-skinned Slayer didn't hesitate in her answer. "Yes. Mizter Zabuto, mah Watcher."

If it was possible, the smile became even more radiant and beautiful, making Kendra force herself to remind herself that this was really a boy as he squeezed her hands lightly. "Then you are already on the path to being truly strong, Kendra. You and Buffy are some of my precious people, and I want to protect you and give you lives outside of slaying. Having a Slayer is good, having two is better. How much easier and safer could it be if you had three, four, a dozen, twenty, possibly even more? You could all have long, happy lives not totally dedicated to fighting with each other's support. I know that you've been trained by the Council and that they probably wouldn't like this idea, but I want a better life for my precious people. Please, let me serve as your tool in gaining a portion of the life that being the Slayer has denied you."

She couldn't help another blush. Nobody, not even the Watcher who had raised her like a daughter from childhood, had ever made her feel so wanted, so precious. She'd been raised from birth to expect to have a short, lonely life fighting alone, and she'd accepted it. But Xander was offering her a different way, a better way. He was willing to risk the displeasure of the Council... for her and for the rest of those he held dear.

Breathing in deeply, Kendra let her eyes open and meet his, determination shining in them. "Let's do dis."

The further widening of Xander's kind smile was all that she needed to know that she'd made the right choice.

End Story 28: Icy Blood, Warm Heart

Notes: I wasn't expecting to do another Naruto crossover, but when I was given deathsheadx's challenge this is the character that I instantly thought about. Besides, Haku seems to fit Xander nicely, both of them being steadfastly dedicated to the people precious to them.

Character: Haku from the manga/anime Naruto (created 1999)

Next story: Oh, Sweet Munchings and Crunchings of Twinkies!


	30. Story 29

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Ugh, tired. But the creative juices are flowing like a river, and I've got a deadline to meet! I can sleep when I'm dead. Onward!

Disclaimer: Considering that lawyers are most likely just some form of advanced bacteria, I'll say this again for their benefit; I don't own BtVS or any other works of fiction that I use here.

Story 29: Oh, Sweet Munchings and Crunchings of Twinkies!

It was pure chance that presented Xander with his Halloween costume. The neighbor's were throwing out a hideous, gray colored shag rug that had grown incredibly shabby and ragged over the years that they'd bothered to keep it. The thing was big enough to clothe a person in the fabric, and that's when Xander remembered the stories that his mother had read to him when he was much younger, before she'd descended into alcoholism with her sad excuse of a husband. More specifically, the shaggy carpeting reminded him of his favorite, furry character in the books. He'd always been amused by the character's antics, and it's part of the reason why he'd grown up to become such a goofball.

Rescuing the rug from the neighbor's trash, he quickly took it up to his room then dashed off for the costume shop. He had scissors, needles, and thread at home since he'd had to mend his clothes at times. So he'd only need a rubber cat nose, some cheap fabric rat ears, and a bit of gray face paint. With the opening day sale that had been advertised at the new place, Ethan's, such a small order of rather cheap items should easily cost only a couple of bucks. Hail to the king baby!

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Amidst the chaos and confusion of Halloween night, there was a gray, shaggy figure about the size of a particularly small man or a young child with tangles of leaves and twigs in it's fur, running around in circles as it's long arms were held up over it's head. And all the while, it was wailing piteously. "Oh where is kindly master?! There are fightings and bitings all about, yes yes! If Gurgi is not careful, there will be smackings and crackings! There will be beating and cleating upon his poor, tender head!"

The ape-like creature continued to carry on in such a manner, obviously distressed and unsure of what to do without guidance. It was a cross between man and animal, lacking the intelligence of the one and without the wisdom of the other and so it sought human friends and masters that it could serve and thus be guided by. Gurgi felt lost and confused without the presence of his master and friend, Taran of Caer Dallben. He had followed the young man for many years now, ever since he met him while the mere slip of a youth that Taran had been was following the great Prince Gwydion in search of the white oracle pig, Hen Wen. While at first Taran had dismissed Gurgi as useless, he soon came to realize that what Gurgi might lack in strength of arms or intelligence, he made up for in friendship. It had also been Gurgi that found the evil Black Cauldron that spawned the deathless warriors known as the Cauldron Born, leading to that evil artifact's destruction while Taran learned to leave behind the fancies of childhood and accept the realities of being a man. The creature had also accompanied Taran as he escorted the outspoken Princess Eilonwy to the Isle of Mona, and then had continued to follow the young man in his wanderings across the vast lands of the Free Commots. The somewhat cowardly creature had even followed his master to war, proudly bearing the banner of the white pig that so many flocked to in the name of Taran the Wanderer. And in the end, his loyalty and constant companionship had been rewarded by passage to the Summer Country where joy and eternal life awaited those blessed enough to live there, though his journey there had parted him from his master at Taran's insistence.

But now poor Gurgi didn't know where he was, he didn't know where his friends were, and he desperately wished for his good and kindly master to be there. Why did these things always seem to happen to him?

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Faith couldn't help but to smile as the gray, shaggy creature bounded about her shitty hotel room, trying to fix it up so that it was nicer and failing miserably. But as she'd come to learn with Xander, it was really the thought that counted. She'd heard the story a couple of times from the other Scoobies, about how when everyone else changed back into their normal selves at the end of that fateful Halloween that Xander hadn't, about how the spell had robbed him of a great deal of intelligence and common wisdom. In many ways, he was like a child combined with a shaggy dog. When she'd first met him, Faith had dismissed the primate-like being as being worthless.

But that attitude had quickly changed when Xander, with no fighting skills whatsoever and shaking like a leaf in fear, had willingly lunged at the ancient vampire Kakistos and bit down upon the vampire's wrist, giving Faith the chance she needed to stake the bastard while he flung the shaggy creature off into the side of a wall. While he was recovering, Xander would occasionally whine about the "achings and breakings of his poor tender head", but despite the pain he was in for weeks after his encounter with Kakistos whenever Faith or one of his other friends came to see him he'd leap to his feet and dance around them in simple joy, just because they were present. It could really make even a bad girl feel good, having someone be that happy just to see them. And even though Xander wasn't particularly skilled at anything, he always tried his hardest to help his friends in whatever they were doing.

The dark Slayer couldn't help but reflect that sometimes it was the simplest souls that were the purest, as evidenced by Xander. Finally satisfied with his cleaning of the room and somehow missing the layer of gray scraggly fur that he'd shed all over the floor while he was jumping around, Xander made his way over to her with a wide smile on his face. "Oh kindly mistress, Xander has made the room all better, yes he has! With brushing and rushing, he cleans it up! Faithful Xander has made room all nice for good and kindly mistress to lay down her weary head, oh yes! Would kindly mistress like munchings and crunchings now?"

Smiling in amusement at the being's antics, Faith nodded in acknowledgment. "Lunch sounds great, Xan."

With a cry of pleasure that he could be of use, Xander pulled out a simple leather pouch from within his folds of fur, quickly yanking out piece after piece of food while the enchanted pouch poured forth a never ending supply. Watching as Xander happily set out a small feast for her, Faith couldn't help but to give another smile even as she chuckled in amusement. Even if he shed, it was nice having a friend.

End Story 29: Oh, Sweet Munchings and Crunchings of Twinkies!

Notes: Mere words of mine can't hope to truly express the character of Gurgi, whom I have loved and cherished since I was a child. Gurgi was also in the Disney film The Black Cauldron, although the movie couldn't begin to compare with the books. If you are not familiar with the works of Lloyd Alexander and The Chronicles of Prydain, then I plead with you to borrow the books from your local library or something. They are a literary delight that matches the Lord of the Rings in my opinion. Go read them now.

Character: Gurgi from The Chronicles of Prydain books by Lloyd Alexander (1964-1968)

Next story: It's Not Easy Being Green


	31. Story 30

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Almost there, almost there... And most heartening of all, somebody has forgiven me for Xander of Ulthwe. Not only did they forgive me, but they UNDERSTOOD why I did what I did. Thank you! You're now officially in the list of my ten favorite reviewers, or something like that. And speaking of favorite reviewers, snowecat do you have a frog phobia or something? Don't worry, it's not Kermit, I'll say that much. Now on with the fic!

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em.

Story 30: It's Not Easy Being Green

Xander's idea for a costume had actually been sparked by the spiteful rantings of Principal Snyder. The troll had said that he would instruct Xander to come dressed as a proper role model, if it weren't for the fact that he was too stupid and brutish to pull it off. So if Snyder wanted a brute savage, then he'd get one. He'd have to thank Willow sometime for letting him play that real-time strategy game on her computer, it had been the focus for his costume idea. Giles should have a couple of axes that he could let Xander borrow, and he could get one of the leather loincloths and chest straps being used as costumes for the drama department's production of Sparticus. That just left him needing to go to a costume shop for a rubber skullcap, attachable pointed ear tips, fake walrus teeth, and green body paint. A LOT of green body paint.

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Grata of Razor Hill, Orcish warrior and proud member of the Horde under the command of the great Warchief Thrall, roared a challenge at the nearby creatures surrounding the area. Taking in the Orc's rippling muscles barely contained by tough green skin, they wisely decided to leave the hulking figure alone. Hefting his war-axe, Grata surveyed the place that he found himself in. This was definitely not the desert plains of his homeland, Durotar. The temperature, humidity, and some of the local plant life suggested that he might be in Stranglethorn Vale on the continent of the Eastern Kingdoms, but there were no towns like this in Stranglethorn. How he came to this place from the capital city of Ogrimmar, he had no idea.

The six and a half foot tall warrior was amongst the fourth generation of Orcs in the lands of Azeroth; his great-grandfather had been amongst the initial invaders of the Orc Horde during the First War, his grandfather had died in the Second War that had led to his race's defeat and subjugation, and his father had withered away and died in the internment camps that the humans had herded the Orcs into at the end of the Second War. At the beginning of the Third War, Grata had been a mere slip of a youth when Thrall had reunited the Orc tribes and departed for the western continent of Kalimdor. It was there that the Warchief had freed his people from the demonic taint that had led them to invade Azeroth in the first place and restored their shamanistic roots to them. Where once Orcs had been nothing but near mindless savages, Thrall had transformed them into a proud and noble race of honorable warriors. And for that, he had the undying loyalty of Grata and the vast majority of the other Orcs.

As years passed, other races that had been shunned and persecuted joined the Orcish people in creating the new Horde: the hardened survivors of the Darkspear Trolls, the mighty and spiritual Tauren, the rebellious undead known as the Forsaken, and just recently the magically addicted Blood Elves. Opposing the Horde was the Alliance, consisting of the Humans, Dwarves, Gnomes, Night Elves, and now the Draeni. Grata supposed that this must be an Alliance town, as he saw many humans running around in a panic. In fact, he saw what looked like some human children being threatened by the same creatures that had fled from him before. Now the Orc had a choice to make. Did he choose the hatred caused from generations of bitter fighting between the humans and Orcs, or did he choose honor? In the end it was no choice at all, and Grata bellowed his war cry as he lunged forward with axe held high. He would protect the children, even if they were humans.

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Green muscles flexed as Xander brought the hammer down upon the piece of red hot metal that he was shaping upon the anvil. Halloween had left some changes with him. Namely, the fact that he was now a non-human sentient straight out of videogames and fantasy. Needless to say, he hadn't been able to go home looking the way that he did now. Giles had been kind enough to purchase a small cabin on the edge of town for him, and using Grata's memories of being a blacksmith he'd set up his own smithy. Willow had set up an online store for him, and he was making a good living off of his new internet blacksmithing business as his pieces were in high demand, seeing as how they were all real handcrafted weapons and not the mass production junk others tried to sell.

Right now though, he was putting the finishing touches onto his latest piece, an elegant but highly functional longsword. He'd originally intended to give Buffy flowers for her birthday, not weaponry. But the Judge had changed that. Xander gave off a tusked grin as he plunged the metal into the water barrel to cool off. So, the Judge couldn't be killed by any weapon forged by man, huh?

It was fortunate then that Xander wasn't a man anymore, wasn't it?

End Story 30: It's Not Easy Being Green

Notes: (sigh) I had such great ideas and scenes for this one, but they just didn't want to come out into written words and I don't have the time to fool with it. I have to go into work unexpectedly, so I need to get this all wrapped up.

Character: Orc from the Warcraft videogame franchise (began 1994 with Warcraft: Orcs & Humans)

Next story: Giles Has Competition


	32. Story 31

**31 Days of Xanderween**

Author's notes: Yes! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel! I'm almost done!

Disclaimer: Not even going to bother, if you haven't gotten the fact that I own nothing through your skull by now then nothing that I can say at this point will change that.

Story 31: Giles Has Competition

In the end Xander was able to spray paint an old shower cap with a flesh tone and embroider some gold thread on the edges of his father's old graduation robes. There were even some sandals from his parent's hippie days. All he needed from the costume shop was a large jeweled broach and some plastic bracers, easily bought for only a few dollars. The Two Dollar costume king continued his reign!

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When Ethan's spell hit, the color leeched out of Xander's eyes, his body grew frail, and his head became much larger. In the next instant, the teen had winked out of existence.

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Giles sighed as he poured through his trusted books. Xander still hadn't shown up and it was worrying him. Also worrying was that Willow wasn't sure just what the boy's costume was supposed to be as she wasn't as big of a comic buff as Xander was. The only clue he had to go on was the name Xander had given to the girls for his character, Uatu. If only he could find what sort of being it was, then he might be able to figure out where Xander had gone.

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_Rupert Giles does not know that I am watching him. He will find nothing in his research books and arcane tomes. Even if they discover the truth, there is nothing that they can do. Just as there is nothing that I can do to help them, even though I can clearly see their futures and destinies just as well as I can see the present and the past. I am bound by the Oath of non-interference, and although I never personally took the oath I understand the reason for it. When one is omnipotent, they must take care not to unduly influence lesser beings._

_Even as I watch Giles in the library, my eyes take in images from other places. I watch as Father Alexander Harris founds the Iscariot Organization in his world, launching a crusade that will slaughter billions of demons, both harmful and benign._

_I watch the Xander Harris that had assumed the memories and skills of assassin Crying Freeman rise to the leadership of the Chinese mafia, his wife Faith at his side always._

_I watch the mechanic blessed by a goddess tinker with another new invention in the back room of his repair shop._

_I watch the one bonded to a dragon flying through the night sky, face upturned in an expression of sublime joy._

_I watch the boy who became a woman, the soldier who became a Slayer guiding her younger sister Slayers through the moves of a military kata._

_I watch the male Slayer, the hunter of shadows standing atop the opened mouth of Hell, a lone warrior of the light banishing demon after demon as they come and determined not to fail._

_I watch the White Templar, freshly returned home from his decade spent in a hell dimension, resting as his friends rejoice at his triumphant return._

_I watch the prehistoric animal with the mind of a man stalking the night, hunting and killing the denizens of the night which threaten it's pack._

_I watch the dhampir continue his endless quest, journeying across the globe countless times as century after century passes and yet he remains unaging and beautiful but infinitely sad and lonely._

_I watch the schoolchildren who transformed themselves into the greatest soldiers ever known descending into the Hellmouth, standing fast and holding the line against the unending hordes that assault them until the red witch's spell empowers all the potential Slayers all across the world and newly called Slayers stand side by side with magically created Spartans; an unstoppable force._

_I watch the power known only as The Darkness slowly consuming it's host bit by bit as time goes by, waiting for the day when the host's mind ceases to exist and it is truly set free upon the world._

_I watch a being as omnipotent as myself which is in the form of a great lion, and even as I watch it from half a universe away it turns to me and winks._

_I watch the killer in the clothes of a priest starting his own orphanage, his lover there to keep him on the true path even as he does the same for her._

_I watch the Mandalorian standing behind his lover, the faithful soldier ready to serve his general._

_I watch the raccoon sneak thief flirting with a female police officer dressed as a humanoid fox at a convention where he can blend in with the crowds surrounding him even as they remain unaware that unlike them he isn't wearing a costume._

_I watch the unfeeling machine and his minions as they build up their new race of mechanical beings, and how the stars bleed red as this new race marches across the cosmos in a war of never ending conquest, the master of sounds listening to the whisperings of the future to come conveyed to him by his loyal vampiric seeress and acting accordingly to what he can decipher of what she tells him._

_I watch the starship captain and his navigator, sailing across the sea of stars as they make their own destinies._

_I watch the warrior of light, the necromancer and her vampire servant, and the disciple of the chaotic god as they bring the skills granted to them by characters from a fictional fantasy land to bear against the forces of darkness._

_I watch the cursed doctor smiling down at his patient, the mother of his heart, and assuring her that he's certain that all potential complications have finally been taken care of and repaired._

_I watch the kind soul trapped within the form of a demon as he disappears in a cloud of smoke only to reappear in front of a shy young woman, bouquet of flowers firmly in hand._

_I watch the tardy shinobi and consort of a goddess pacing around outside of the delivery room, remaining outside because he knew that his lover would snap him in half for causing her the pain of childbirth if he were in there at that moment._

_I watch the immortal soldier, the Centurion kneeling in prayer before marching out into the night again, resuming his goal of wiping out the vampire race so that he could finally rest in peace._

_I watch the musician with the passions for money and women as he seemingly argues with thin air._

_I watch the Reign of Nightmares continue unabated as the possessed soul feeds his blade's thirst for souls._

_I watch the mother of the Eldar race overlooking the latest batch of newly converted Eldar, her young son, truly the first of his race, standing beside her._

_I watch the crimson cloaked executioner cutting down yet another member of the Watcher's Council down in cold blood, ensuring that no more assassins are sent after the two independent Slayers._

_I watch the cyborg as he gently gathers his redheaded friend into a hug, savoring the sense of touch that allows him to feel as though he really is still just a normal human being within his metal shell._

_I watch as the gentle boy with the cursed blood faces down the mad goddess, standing between her and the trio of Slayers that were guarding a young girl with brown hair, his utter determination to protect those that he held precious making him as cold and deadly as the ice he wielded as he fought._

_I watch the simple minded loyalty and unconditional friendship of a young man turned into a shaggy creature of unknown origin, and can't help but smile as I watch._

_And I watch the green skinned barbarian, the noble savage as he fights alongside the Slayers as an equal and labors at his forge to produce some of the finest weaponry that his world had ever known._

_I watch and observe all of these things at once, my mind memorizing and categorizing them before sending the information to my kin in other galaxies and dimensions. For eternity, I shall watch, observe, and learn. For I am Xander, created in the likeness of Uatu himself, and I am the Watcher!_

_I only hope that Giles doesn't mind the competition._

End Story 31: Giles Has Competition

Notes: It... Is... FINISHED! Break out the champagne and cigars lads and lasses, it's time to celebrate! Ah, what a wondrously wild ride it's been, eh? I'm going to list all of the costumes, thank reviewers, and issue a challenge to my readers next chapter, so be sure to tune in.

Character: Uatu the Watcher from the Marvel Universe of comics and cartoons (first appearance 1963)

Next: Xanderween Compendium, Challenge, and Conclusion (Xanderween CC&C)


	33. Xanderween CC&C

**31 Days of Xanderween**

**Xanderween Compendium, Challenge, and Conclusion**

**Fanfiction by NightHunterMGS**

**October 1st – 31st, 2007**

Well everyone, we've all come to the end of the race with this fic. I'm grateful that all of you have been with me throughout this somewhat hectic month. And so before anything else is said or done, I'd like to thank all of my reviewers. Without you, this wouldn't have become what it became.

snowecat, thanks for being unafraid of questioning the details of my fics and offering suggestions.

stickzx, thank you for being the standard that I measured myself against; if you liked what I wrote than I knew that I'd done a good job, and your suggestions and constructive criticism inspired me to become better at what I was doing.

Firehedgehog, thank you for your refreshing enthusiasm.

CervantesOsis, thank you for liking my story enough that you wanted to add your own work to it.

zeo knight, thank you for always having a compliment for me.

Joshua Richardson, thank you for your witty discourse and suggestions.

SquirelE, thank you for actually liking my work even at it's lowest point.

deathsheadx, thank you for challenging me to go in a direction that I had not previously attempted.

bandgsecurtiyaw, thanks for always having kind words for my work.

Sean Malloy-1, thanks for your steady supply of story ideas.

Vixen2, thank you for keeping up with the fic and encouraging me to keep at it.

Drew, I appreciated both your compliments and your careful attention to the details of my work.

The Son of Naruto and Sakura, I also thank you for your suggestions.

And Harry2, thank you for being so very amusing.

To everyone else, thank you for reading and taking the time to review, I thank God for each and every one of you.

List of Xander's Costumes

Father Alexander- Alexander Anderson (Hellsing, anime/manga)

Crying Xan-man- Yo Hinomura/Crying Freeman (Crying Freeman, anime/manga/movies)

X1- Keiichi Morisato (Oh! My Goddess, anime/manga)

Al'der, Rider of Jesse- Dragonrider (Dragonriders of Pern series, literature)

Xander #9- Kou Shinozuka/Musashi/#9 (Musashi #9, manga)

Slayer- Shadow Slayer (d20 Modern, roleplaying game)

From Hellgate to Hellmouth- Templar (Hellgate: London, videogame)

And You Thought the Hyena Was Bad...- Raptor (Jurassic Park, books/movies)

X- D (Vampire Hunter D, animated movies/literature)

A REAL Spartan in Sunnydale- Stelios (300, graphic novel/movie)

The Xanderness- Jackie Estacado (The Darkness, comics/videogame)

Heart of a Lion- Aslan (The Chronicles of Narnia, literature/animated movie/live action movie)

Confessionals, Cigarettes, and Twinkies- Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun, anime/manga)

Xander, Clan Ordo- Canderous Ordo (Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic series, videogames)

Sly Harris- Sly Cooper (Sly Cooper series, videogames)

Xander Superior, Fang Faces Inferior- Soundwave (Transformers Generation 1, cartoon)

"I'll-Pay-You-When-I-Make-It-Big" Xander- Gene Starwind and Melfina (Outlaw Star, anime/manga)

Three Cheers for Fervus and Twinkies!- Paladin, Priestess, and Cultist (Majesty: The Fantasy Kingdom Sim, computer game)

Xander Sohma, the Dragon- Hatori Sohma, the Dragon (Fruits Basket, anime/manga)

Bampf Equals Barf- Nightcrawler (X-men, comics/cartoons/movies/games)

Copycat Xander- Kakashi Hatake (Naruto, anime/manga)

Eternal Soldier Boy- Marcus/The Centurion (The Light Brigade, comics)

The Xander's Tale- The Bard (The Bard's Tale, videogame)

Soul Xander- Nightmare (Soul Calibur series, videogames)

Xander of Ulthwe- Farseer Taldeer (Warhammer 40,000, tabletop games/books,videogames)

Crimson Xander- Imperial Royal Guard Kir Kanos (Star Wars: Crimson Empire, comics)

The Right Technology- Briareos (Appleseed, anime/manga)

Icy Blood, Warm Heart- Haku (Naruto, anime/manga)

Oh, Sweet Munchings and Crunchings of Twinkies!- Gurgi (The Chronicles of Prydain, literature)

It's Not Easy Being Green- Orc (Warcraft series, computer games)

Giles Has Competition- Uatu the Watcher (Marvel Universe, comics/cartoons)

So, that's the entire list of stories and costumes, not counting the Xanderween Special Interlude story Xander Jeagerjaques written by CervantesOsis. And that brings me to the challenge that I wish to give to my readers. I challenge you to do one of two things. I want you to either write your own YAHFs with characters that have absolutely never been used before, or to write an expanded fic based around one of my Xanderween oneshots (if you do this be sure to mention me and give me some credit for the original idea). So to this purpose, I officially issue the Xanderween Challenge; now all of you can show me what you can do!

Thank you all once again for sticking by me throughout this month, I hope that I've served to entertain and in some cases inspire you. Perhaps later on I'll start up a sequel, but for right now I'm going to take a brief break from writing. After this month, I'm worn out from writing!

Thank you for reading, and God bless you all.

-NightHunterMGS

**The End**

**(Or Is It? Yes, Yes It Probably Is, But We can Always Hope For A Sequel, Can't We?)**

Oh, and just in case the lawyers missed it, I don't own any of the series listed here or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I have no money anyway, so don't bother suing me. Ja ne minna!


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